My King
by The World in my Pocket
Summary: Will Turner is a foster child who's been to six high schools in four years so what could possibly be so different at Riverside High, home of the Pirates? There he meets some real characters including the love of his life. WARNING: Strong Language WE/JA-A
1. His First Words

Author's Notes: Eek! My first story! I'm so excited... It took me a while to write it, and I'm getting used to the whole long/short chapter issue--is this too long? too short? too much information?--so I don't think there'll be updates like crazy, but I should be able to update every two weeks or so... Thanks for reading!

I'd like to thank my best friend and beta, Sesi, for reading this for me and giving me the cold, hard truth.

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_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the basic premise of the plot. _

_Summary: Will Turner is a foster child who's been to six high schools in four years, so what's so different about Riverside High School, home of the Pirates? How about a senior who's old enough to_ _**legally**_ _drink, a best friend with a fiery attitude and a knack for getting him in trouble, and the love of his life... did I mention she's the principal's daughter? With the prom creeping up on them, these highschool seniors are just drowning in the drama... AU, WE, JA_

_Rated: T for violence and language. May change to M for later chapters.

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_

_Chapter One: His First Words_

"Will! Breakfast is on the table!" Stella called up the stairs, "Could you wake up your brothers, please?" The sweet, sixty-year old lady turned back to her hap-hazardous kitchen, where she had spent the past hour making breakfast for everyone. She smiled at the oldest girl, Isabelle. "Can you put the strawberries in a bowl for me? And make sure you don't put the spoon anywhere near Johnny's high chair…"

"I know, I know," the ten-year-old girl sighed, smiling slightly as she placed the bowl in the midst of everything on the table.

"Could you get your sisters for me?" She asked sweetly as she began to pour three glasses of milk, two glasses of orange juice, one apple juice, a chocolate milk, and three cups of strong, black coffee. Isabelle disappeared up the steps, as the boys, who sounded like a herd of elephants, came trampling down.

"Yes! You made chocolate chip pancakes!" Justin cried, plopping into his chair and pouncing on the treats. Stella grinned, and ruffled his red hair.

"It is your birthday," she said, and he grinned.

"I'm seven today—can you believe it? I finally get to do what the big kids do!"

"Like what?" Will asked as he placed Johnny in his highchair, making sure everything was tightly in place. He looked around and finally saw Johnny's jar of mashed bananas. He sat down across from Justin, and began feeding Johnny the bananas. When the little boy became fussy, he gave him a break and turned to his own plate. He smiled at Justin and took a sip of his coffee, wincing at the bitter taste. "Stella… sugar?"

"Yes!" She cried. She handed him the container with a grin and an apology.

"Don't worry about it. There's eight of us, and you aren't superhuman," he said genuinely, offering her a smile. He turned back to Justin, who was counting off all the things he could do now that he was seven.

"…I can watch T.V. until 9 o'clock now! …And eat cake and cookies all I want, because I'm all growned up!" Will smiled as he began to eat the eggs he placed on his plate. He turned to his other brother, Luke.

"Excited for your first day at Kindergarten, Luke?"

"No," he said honestly, looking solemnly into his cup of chocolate milk. Will furrowed his brows.

"Why not?" He asked earnestly.

"Because… because…" he looked at Justin, who smiled. "Because Justin told me that the teacher is really mean, and she makes you sit for a million hours and write really long sentences and you never get to play and I'll never get to play ball at recess because the teacher makes us stay inside and count, and I'll have to eat broccoli every day and--"

"Whoa!" Will said, looking at Justin with a raised brow, "I don't ever remember Kindergarten ever being like that!"

"No?" Luke piped up instantly; his sudden head jerk causing his crazy curls to fly everywhere.

"No. All I remember is snack time and naptime. Oh! And we always got the best balls at recess," Will said with a smile. Luke grinned and began to eat his own pancakes like lightning. "Slow down there, buddy!"

"I can't! I want to go to school! I can't wait!"

Stella smiled from her position at the counter, her cup of coffee in her hand. She was watching Will with great curiosity; he was, after all, the newest addition to her family. Her own kids all grown and raised, Stella and her husband Mark decided to become foster parents after they both retired. Mark had been a very successful businessman in his finer days, and they had saved up enough money to take care of such an enormous family.

First, they started with simply being foster parents. Then the toll of kids being taken away without a moment's notice grew too heavy for them, so they started adopting children. Stella, a nurse at a local hospital on the weekends, was able to stay home on the weekdays with the kids, and Mark would stay home on the weekends. The system was nearly perfect.

Isabelle had been the first; a girl whom they had been foster parents for about a year. When they realized she was available for adoption, they discussed it with her—she was seven at the time—and it was finalized shortly after. Six months later, Justin was next, and two months later brothers Luke and Johnny came into their lives. They lived as a family of six for another year or so before Lola and Margarita came into their life. They were sisters from Puerto Rico, and knew little English when they were adopted. This family existed for another six months before Jasmine came into the picture, when she was merely 14 months old. Ten months later, the agency called Stella to ask them about Will Turner, a seventeen-year old foster child who needed a temporary home until he turned eighteen in another year. Not the kind of people to let a helpless child go without help, they welcomed Will Turner into their homes that past summer, exactly three years after adopting Isabelle… He had walked in right in the middle of their celebration… He was a mystery then, having not wanted to join in the festivities, and instead sleep in his new room, but Will Turner now…

Having been in foster homes most of his life, he was a mystery to Stella. From what she had gathered in the past summer, his father had walked out on the family to pursue an acting career when Will was barely old enough to sit up. His mother died when he was six, and, having no immediate family to care for him (his father couldn't be found anywhere), he has been 'in the system' ever since.

He had come to them at the beginning of the summer, and hadn't spoken much. Stella still remembers the first time she had ever heard him speak.

_It was late on a rainy, July afternoon, and Will was downstairs, reading a book while his younger 'siblings' played with blocks. Jasmine, the youngest girl, was crawling around and gurgling. She stopped at the coffee table where Will had placed his feet. She reached a chubby, dark arm up and grabbed the edge. She pulled herself up and smiled at Will, who still remained oblivious._

_Upset that she was getting snubbed for attention, she began to walk slowly around the table, her little hands still gripping the edge for her dear life. She made her way around the edge, teetering dangerously and gurgling at the same time. Finally, she reached his legs and latched onto them as she began to squeal._

_Will sucked in his breath really quick, surprised by the sudden weight on his legs. He looked up to see Jasmine's smiling face gurgling up at him as she stood there, hugging his left leg. His face softened and he smiled._

"_You **can** walk, can't you?" he said softly, startling Stella—in the kitchen, baking cookies for the 'treats jar'. He reached down and picked the little girl up. He sat her on his lap, and she smiled at him. "You've just been crawling so everyone will pick you up, haven't you?" He said, leaning his head to one side. Will was, obviously, ignorant to the fact that she had learned to walk a while ago, but his notions were true; the little girl preferred to be carried, and so she opted to crawl._

_She clapped her hands together and giggled. "Willy!" She squealed, and his jaw dropped._

"_Jasmine!" Stella squealed from her spot, rushing over to the astounded teenager and the quite happy little girl. "What did you just say?"_

"_Willy! Willy! Willy!" She repeated over and over again, clapping her hands._

"_Her first words?" Will asked his foster mother, his brooding, dark eyes suddenly twinkling with a happiness Stella had never seen come from him. She nodded mutely, and he smiled, hugging the little girl tighter. "Beautiful," he whispered into her curls, and she cooed,_

"_Willy…"_

After that, he spent most of his time with Jasmine and his other siblings, talking a bit more every day. In late July, he approached Stella with the desire to get a job as a mechanic, something he had been taught how to do by his last foster-father, and something he knew how to do rather well. Stella agreed, and by the second week of July, Will began working for the local mechanic as a bit of an apprentice, as he truly didn't know everything yet.

Will brought in enough income that he bought most of his own clothes, and therefore felt like less of a burden to Stella. At least, that's what Stella always figured Will thought that way. She would subtly let him know that he was always a blessing, never a burden, but Will would smile politely, nod, and then continue on with whatever he was doing. He was stubborn, and Stella knew this well.

She looked at the digital clock on the microwave and sighed. "Isabelle, hurry up! You all will miss the bus!"

"Can't we ride with Will?" Came Isabelle's reply, a few moments later. Stella sighed.

"He doesn't have a large enough car—hurry up!"

"Good morning, darling!" Mark said as he sat down at the head of the table, immediately making up a plate.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Stella replied, finally moving away from the counter to sit at his right. "What are your plans for today?"

"To have brunch with some new clients, and I have set up a noon tee-time for you and I. After all, this is supposed to be a day off…" He joked, winking at Justin, who grinned.

Stella sighed, "What about the--?"

"I called Molly, and she's agreed to watch them for the day," Mark said, and Stella relaxed slightly.

"As long as she's fine with it," she said, digging into her eggs. The girls marched into the kitchen after a comfortable silence. Isabelle placed Jasmine in the highchair next to Johnny's.

"Morning, Mum, Dad," she said, sitting across from Stella. Lola and Margarita sat in the last two empty chairs next to Will.

"Morning!" They chirped, and Mark and Stella smiled.

"Morning everyone!" Mark said smiling, his skin wrinkling in an endearing way. "Tonight, we're going to have dinner out to celebrate the first day of a new school year," he announced, and this seemed to make the attitude even brighter in the household. "When do you work again, Will?"

"I told Mr. Brown I'd be there after school until seven, as always," he told the elder man politely. He nodded.

"Good, I made reservations for eight," he nodded, taking it all in. Will nodded and returned to feeding Johnny, all the while eating his own eggs off of his plate. When Johnny was finished, he switched him and Jasmine around, and smiled at his little sister.

"Willy!" She clapped her hands together as he shuffled the chairs. "Wee!" She squealed happily.

Everyone laughed, and Will shook his head as Margarita and Lola began chanting, "Willy, Willy, silly, silly Willy!" while breaking into fits of giggles. He shook his head, but was smiling.

"Settle down, girls," Stella said gently, but firmly, causing the two girls to quiet down and merely whisper the chant at Will. Justin had even picked it up; looking wickedly at Will while doing so. Luke remained silent, dozing off slightly in his seat.

"It's 7 o'clock, Will," Stella said, and Will jumped up quickly, startling Jasmine, who began to cry. He immediately attempted to calm her down by making funny faces at her. When she started giggling, he kissed her cheek and picked up his corduroy backpack. Ruffling Lola and Margarita's hair (much to their chagrin) he gave both Stella and Mark a light pat on the shoulder. They knew what it meant; he hated awkward goodbyes, and wasn't quite comfortable enough with them for a hug or kiss. He waved to his younger brothers, and walked out of their large house.

"Hello, baby," he said coyly to his car, an old Mustang he had built new again, piece by piece. He had spent most of his summer savings on rejuvenating this old car, and it caused him to appreciate it more. He stepped inside and threw his bag on the passenger seat and began pulling out of their long driveway.

The house, on the inside, was a chaotic mess that Stella uselessly attempted to clean. It was difficult to maintain any semblance of order anywhere in the house, what with eight kids, and her three daughters visiting with their husbands and grandchildren. She had nine grandkids, to be exact, and the younger ones often spend the day at Stella's house while their parents go off to work.

Will isn't sure how she does it, but he has an amazing amount of respect for her for doing it. He smiled and the large house before he sped off towards his sixth high school in four years.

He turned on the radio and kept a steady beat on his steering wheel as he went, the windows down and the wind blowing through his long, coffee-brown curls. He stopped at a red light and pulled them back into a messy ponytail with a rubber band he kept on his wrist.

He seemed in a bit of a nervous daze as he drove the rest of the fifteen-minute drive before he pulled into the student parking lot of Riverside High School. He turned his radio down as his deep brown eyes scanned the parking lot for a space.

"Lucky day," he muttered, spotting one close to the entrance to the school. He turned on his blinker and began moving into the space when… "What the hell?" He exclaimed, watching as a red convertible pulled up into the space merely seconds before he made his move. He watched, astonished, as a young couple got out of the car, turned to him, and laughed. He rolled his eyes and kept moving, finding a space in the back of the lot.

"Jerks," he muttered, shutting off his car and grabbing his things. He made his way out of his car as someone pulled into the space beside him. He turned around to lock his car and came face to face with a fellow student about six inches taller. "Excuse me."

"What?" The taller kid said, taking a step back to look at Will, who took a glance at the other kid as well. He had long, dark brown hair, which was pulled away from his face by a red bandana. He was wearing a Rolling Stones T-shirt under a black leather vest. He wore dark-wash jeans and black boots. He had three piercings in one ear, and two tattoos, one on either arm. And… was he wearing make-up? "Jesus Christ, you're a sight for sore eyes, get the fuck out of my way," the kid laughed, seeming to be almost three years older than Will. He pushed Will to the side, laughing even harder as he jogged his way out of the parking lot and into the school.

"Weird," Will commented, locking his car and making his way up towards the school. He glanced down at his schedule that told him where his homeroom was, but the trouble was that the school was not a single-building school. He gazed around what seemed to be an enormous campus, and his jaw dropped. "Christ," he whispered, looking down at his schedule.

"New here?" He heard someone call from behind. He turned to see a girl his age smiling at him. She wore a simple black T-shirt and a pair of black Capri's, showing off her red sandals. She smiled at him as she moved closer to him.

"Yeah… was it that obvious?" Will asked quietly, and the girl chuckled, shaking her head.

"A little," she chuckled, checking out his schedule. "A senior?"

"Yeah…" he said, running a hand through his hair. "I just… moved here," he said awkwardly, not wanting to divulge in a total stranger about his real situation.

"Oh? Where are you from?"

"England, originally…" he said, "My mum moved us to the States when I was four; we lived in Philadelphia for a while, and then… we moved here." He said, cutting off the long story a bit short.

"I figured, what with that accent and all," the girl said, outstretching her hand. "Ana Maria Toriano."

"Will Turner," he took her hand and shook it.

"Good! We'll be in the same homeroom!" She said, pointing towards a building. "That's the senior building, where your English class will be," she indicated his English class on his schedule. "You see, the 4 stands for the building number," she pointed towards the building again, and this time Will noticed a large green "4" painted onto the side of it. "And because it's a 1 next, it means it's on the main floor, and then the room number follows," she showed him again, pointing at the numbers as she spoke of them. "Now, for your math class, it's a 0 next, so it's on the bottom floor. Do you understand?"

"I think so," Will nodded, looking at it. "Where's the cafeteria?" He asked, looking around the campus again.

"Building 7," she pointed down towards it. Will smiled.

"Thanks, Ana Maria," he nodded, taking his schedule and studying it again.

"Don't mention it--"

"Ana, dah-ling!" A male voice called. Ana Maria's dark eyes lit up as she heard it. "Oh, it's been too long!" He called dramatically. Ana was now looking past Will's shoulder, and he turned to see the kid from the parking lot.

"Jack Sparrow!" She called, moving past Will to hug her friend. Will raised a brow, but said nothing, merely watching. "Oh, I can't believe you're back!"

"Well, luv," he said smoothly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "it takes _skill_ to fail senior year three years in a row," he said nonchalantly, looking at his nails. "You'd think I'd start caring now, but I always know there'll be a place in the world for someone like me," he said, grinning from ear to ear. Ana Maria rolled her eyes.

"Just _try_ this year, Jack, please?"

"All right, all right, luv, but for you," he said, rolling his own eyes now. Finally, he noticed Will again. "What the hell are you staring at?"

"Oh, shut up, Jack! He's new," Ana Maria pushed Jack's shoulder, and he scoffed.

"New or not, it's not nice to stare," he said, looking at Will again with a bit of curiosity. "What's your name, kid?"

"Will Turner," Will said after some slight hesitation. Jack grinned.

"Welcome to Riverside High, mate, the best and worst time of your life!" He said dramatically, waving his arms about him. "What's your homeroom?"

"Um…" Will looked at his paper again. "4008?" He said, looking up at Jack.

"Oh, fuck, you're stuck with me all year I suppose!" Jack shouted back, and Ana Maria grinned.

"Me too!"

"Well, cheers, then," Will said, not necessarily knowing whether or not it was a good thing that he was stuck in homeroom with someone as crazy as Jack Sparrow.

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"Who's that?" Samantha Harris asked her best friend, who shrugged her shoulders. 

"Don't know," she replied softly, watching the new kid walk across campus from the shade of the elm tree they were standing under. "He must be new," she said, looking through her purse for a moment. "Gum?" She offered her friend, who shook her head.

"He's _gorgeous_," Samantha cooed, and her friend took another opportunity to roll her eyes. "Don't you think so, Jessie?"

"I guess," Jessica said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Hey, Lizzie!" Samantha called, as their other friend walked up towards him. "Turn around and look into the eyes of perfection!"

"What?" Their friend asked, confused. She turned to look at a rather good-looking young boy talk to some girl none of them seemed to recognize. "Who's he?"

"We don't know," Jessica shrugged, holding up her pack of gum. "You wanna piece?" She asked Lizzie, who shook her head.

"Isn't he gorgeous?"

"Who's gorgeous?" They turned to look at Lizzie's boyfriend, James Norrington, walk up to them, wearing his football jersey.

"That boy over there," Samantha pointed towards him again. James shook his head and kissed Lizzie on the cheek.

"Not as gorgeous as me though, right, babe?" He asked his girlfriend, who smiled.

"Of course not, darling," she cooed right back, kissing him on the lips. Samantha and Jessica rolled their eyes. Lizzie pulled away and glanced once more at the new boy. As much as she loved her boyfriend, there was just something about him that made her… wonder.

"Elizabeth," James breathed, reaching down and grabbing her hand. "Do you still have practice tonight?"

"Yeah, James, and then I have to go get my car fixed," she said, looking up at him.

"Then we're going out for pizza," Jessica chimed in. The other girls looked at her. "Don't tell me you both forgot," she hit Samantha, who said quickly:

"Of course not, we just made the plans ages ago."

James looked angry, but said nothing. He kissed Elizabeth again. "Well, I guess we can hang out tomorrow, or something. I'll see you later, love," one last kiss and he was gone. Once gone, Elizabeth turned to her friends.

"What the hell, Jess?" She hissed towards her friend, who shook her head.

"I don't like him, Lizzie, and I'm just watching out for you," she shrugged her shoulders. The homeroom bell rang, causing all further conversations to drop. "C'mon, let's get to homeroom."

"Which one are you guys in?" Samantha asked, linking arms with her best friends.

"4112," Jessica said, and Samantha giggled.

"Me too!"

"We've been in the same homeroom since seventh grade, Sam," she pointed out with a bit of edge to her voice, which Sam didn't hear.

"What about you, Lizzie?"

"4008," Elizabeth checked her schedule again. "Tough luck, girls," she shrugged, moving towards the steps that would take her into the lower level of the school. She walked towards the door behind a group of people, when traffic suddenly stopped.

"Oh, c'mon, man!" A kid called, and there was some pushing before it cleared to reveal the boy from earlier. His bag seemed to have ripped, and the contents of which were spilled all over the sidewalk. He was scrambling to pick up his things around all the students who decided to step on them. Elizabeth sighed and bent down, helping him gather it all.

She picked up some papers, and handed them to the shy boy, who merely nodded and whispered a quick "thanks". She picked up a black book and looked at him curiously, but he was too busy to notice. Right as she was opening it, however, he quickly grabbed it from her hands. "Sorry, but… I've never shown anyone that," he said, softly, as if apologizing for his rude actions.

"It's okay," Elizabeth smiled. "What… is it, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Erm… It's… a collection of sorts," he said awkwardly, shoving his things back into his backpack. "I… don't really know how to describe it."

"That's all right," she said, watching him closely. She smiled, "I'm Elizabeth Swann," she offered his hand.

"Will Turner," he said, and she was able to notice his accent. She smiled even wider, finding it adorable. He seemed to have noticed this, and blushed, looking down at the ground. He looked up at her. "Could you… point me in the direction of 4008?"

"Is that your homeroom?" She asked, suddenly getting excited, though she couldn't place a finger as to why.

"Yes, at least… I think so," he said, looking down at his schedule. She moved closer to him and looked over his shoulder.

"Yes, it is," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. A shiver went down her spine. "Um," she said awkwardly, standing up quickly. "I-I can show you where it is!" She announced, and he smiled.

"Thanks… Miss Swann," he said, not able to remember her first name.

"Oh, please… call me Lizzie," she said, holding open the door.

"All right," he said, walking through it. She walked a few paces ahead of him and he watched her anxiously. She went inside a room and he stopped. He watched her walk to her seat, and he smiled. Breathing a short, "Lizzie," he walked into the classroom, the door shutting behind him with a quiet _click_.

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I hope you liked it!

_Chapter Two: Their First Date_ is coming up shortly.


	2. Their First Date

_Chapter Two: Their First Date_

"Oi! Gibbs!" Jack said as he walked into the classroom shortly after Will. The older man behind the desk smiled at Jack, slapping hands with the senior before Jack sat in his desk in the far back. "It's been a while, mate." He said with, what Will figured to be, his characteristic slur. Gibbs smiled.

"We went out, what, yesterday, Sparrow?" Gibbs asked, chortling in his chair. Jack grinned, but said nothing, instead turning to play with Ana Maria's hair. She pushed his hands away and motioned for Will to grab the desk in front of her. He nodded at Elizabeth, who smiled at him, before he sat in front of Ana Maria. "All right, kids," Gibbs said after the late bell rang. He looked at Jack, "and I use the term loosely," he winked at Jack who grinned back, "it's your final year… at least for some," another pointed look at Jack, "so let's make the best of it. My name is Joshamee Gibbs because my parents had a horrible sense of humor, but don't waste your time with no damn 'Mr. Gibbs'. Gibbs is all I need to be called, all right?" There was a murmur from the class before he continued. "There's a student handbook on your desk, and you've been through this for a few years, so I'm not going to go through it with you… you're big kids, now, aren't you?" They laughed before Gibbs continued, "Good. Now, I'll just take roll and then you can do whatever the hell you want, all right? Good…. Erm… Jenna Sonic?"

"Here!"

Will turned around to Ana Maria and asked, "How does Jack know Gibbs so well?"

"Jack's older sister was in the same class as Gibbs was when Gibbs went to high school," Ana Maria shrugged. "When Jack was a freshmen, Gibbs helped him get used to the campus and everything. They're kind of like brothers," she smiled. "Are you going to read the handbook?"

"It's basically the same rules as it was in… my old high school, I'm sure," he covered quickly, and she smiled.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Elizabeth Swann?"

"Here!" Elizabeth raised her hand daintily before lowering it back down to her desk. Will's head had jerked up at the sound of her voice, and now he had a rather unattractive blush flaming up his face. Ana Maria rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

"So… do we have any other courses together?" Will asked, handing her his schedule. She looked them over.

"Just… last period…"

"What's that class?"

"Emma Tovin?"

"Study hall," she said, handing Will back his schedule. Jack grabbed it before Will did, staring at it.

"Aye! All three of us are in that particular class," Jack said, grinning. "And you got lunch with me," he said, nodding. "Good. You can sit with me an' my wenches."

"Pardon?"

"Ana Maria Toriano?"

"My wenches," Jack said, grinning. He placed his arms on the back of his head. "My band," he elaborated, winking at Will. "Captain Jack and his Wenches," he said, leaning back in his seat. "We're a bit more… heavy metal than you'd think coming from one guy and three girls," he said, shrugging, "but we can tone it down a bit—we're going to have to, if we want to play for the prom this year."

"They're amazing," Ana Maria commented, grinning. Will shrugged.  
"I'm not into that sort of thing," he said, and Jack scoffed.

"You will be if you want to get along with _me_!"

"Will Turner?"

"Why does music--"

"Will Turner?"

"—have any influence over--"

"Will's absent, then?"

"—our friendship?"

"Will, shut up and raise your hand!" Ana Maria hissed. Will spun around quickly, raising his hand and shouting.

"HERE!"

The classroom fell deadly silent afterwards, the other kids taking turns to turn and look at Will. Some giggled behind hands, while others didn't know how to take it in. Elizabeth, from her seat right next to him, just smiled and shook her head, continuing with her doodle on her new, pink notebook. Will blushed profusely and apologized.

"Well," Gibbs said, erasing the mark he had made in his grade book, "gotta give the kid credit for being enthusiastic."

The day seemed to be moving at a whirlwind pace for Will, as he got lost a few times and bumped into some very interesting characters. Around fifth period, he went into the cafeteria for lunch and saw Jack Sparrow far off in the corner sandwiched between two girls with heavy eyeliner. As Will walked closer, another girl wearing heavy eyeliner came and sat down across from the girl on Jack's right, a blonde wearing a bright red T-shirt. Will waved shyly, and Jack grinned.

"Grab a seat, and meet me girls," he purred, placing an arm around the shoulders of the girl on his left, a redhead wearing green. She pushed his arm away and huffed.

"We have names, you know," she growled in a very high-pitched voice. The girl on the right giggled.

"Like he can remember—he was so drunk last night!"

"You mean like every other fucking night?" The girl across the table laughed, and Jack glared sourly at them all.

"Of course I can remember your names," he grunted, kicking out a chair in front of Will. The poor kid grabbed it quickly and sat; pulling out the lunch Stella had packed for him. "William, this is Scarlet," he gestured to the blonde. "Giselle," he gestured to the redhead. "And—oh, fuck—" he looked hard at the brunette for a second before he remembered, "Oh, that's right… Adrienne. Wenches, meet William Turner."

"Hi," Will said shyly, as all three girls turned their attention towards him.

"How're ya, sexy?" Scarlet purred.

"Good, as far as I can see," Giselle concurred with a grin.

"You should see him from this angle!" Adrienne grinned, causing Will's face to heat up profusely. Jack cleared his throat.

"We got practice tonight, ladies, so don't get too plastered, all right?"

"Yes, sir," they purred together. Jack grinned, looking at Will.

"So… when are you going to screw that blonde chick?"

"What?" Will asked, choking on his sandwich. He coughed for a moment before he sent Jack a look. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I mean… that girl from homeroom… god, what was her name…" Jack thought for a moment, before he brightened up. "Oh, yeah—'Lizabeth Swann!"

"Oh."

"Her."

"God, can't believe he fell for her."

"Doesn't seem like the type."

"Then again—"

"Yeah… Maybe he does seem like the type…"

"Or—"

"Girls, shut it!" Jack groaned, shaking his head as his 'wenches' immediately began babbling about poor Elizabeth Swann (Will was both too in shock and too red to reply). "So… when are you going to 'do the deed'?" Jack asked with a wink. Will sighed.

"Shut it, Jack," he said, glaring (and finally finding his voice). "I… don't know. I-I don't think she'd go for a guy like… me."

"Why not?"

"Too pretty--?" Will tried, but failed. Jack sighed.

"Listen, Will… just… lay on the charm—you're all right lookin'—it shouldn't be so hard for you to get laid around here," Jack shrugged, looking around.

"Jackie," Adrienne said, fooling around with her salad.

"Yeh, luv?" Jack asked, turning to look at her.

"Your eyeliner's smeared," she said, laughing as she took a dainty bite of the greens. Jack rolled his eyes, pulling the pencil out from his bandana. Will watched as he pulled off a stray hair before pulling a mirror out of his hair as well. Disregarding Will completely, Jack set off into the task of making sure his eyeliner didn't look like he fell asleep in drag the night before. After all, he had an image to uphold.

Seventh period English was just about as exciting as watching paint dry, or cutting each blade of grass individually with a pair of safety scissors. Will walked into the classroom with a preconceived notion that he was going to be bored, and he knew that this was the one time in the world he'd be right.

The classroom was void of a teacher, and the students were milling about, waiting for said teacher to arrive and assign seats. With a silent curse, Will realized he didn't know anyone in this class. He sighed and moved to the corner, taking out his little black book and looking through the pages. The bell rang shortly, and there was still no teacher in sight.

The classroom got quieter, each teen taking a turn to look around for the teacher, and upon finding no one; they turned to a friend to question it. Suddenly, the door opened, and in walked a short man with very little hair. He slung his briefcase down upon his desk and opened it, looking through the contents inside. He pulled out a paper and cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the class.

"My name is Mr. Beckett," he said stiffly, his chest puffing out with an air of arrogance. "And I will be your teacher this school year. Now onto the tedious task of assigning seats, yes?" He said, looking around him with a cold, careless demeanor. He began listing off names in alphabetical order, and Will briefly paid attention until he heard his own name to be called. "Right up here, _William_," he said, stressing Will's full name. He pointed at a seat right in front of his desk, and Will inwardly groaned. "Right next to…" he checked his paper again, "Elizabeth Swann… Elizabeth?" He looked around (as did Will) before he dismissed it and moved on. Nearly two seconds later, the door reopened and two voices could be heard.

"Ladies first," Jack Sparrow said, a rough hand gesturing towards the door.

"Oh, grow up, Sparrow…"

Will's ears perked up to the voice of Elizabeth Swann rebuking Jack for… offering her the door? It wasn't until they were both inside that Will noticed Jack looking down her shirt. Mr. Beckett tapped his foot against the tile floors impatiently.

"A disruption, Sparrow—and on the first day no less!" He said, tutting towards Jack, who rolled his eyes.

"Shut up, _Cutler_," he said, receiving raucous laughter from his fellow students. Mr. Beckett had turned an awful shade of red.

"A week's worth of detentions, I'm sure, will straighten you out a bit, yes?"

"Not really."

"It wasn't a question."

"You phrased it as one."

"Two weeks, then!" Mr. Beckett nearly shouted, his face close to purple. Jack rolled his eyes.

"Where am I sitting?"

"If you got here on time, you'd know…"

"Next to me, Jackie!" Will turned around to see Adrienne patting the seat beside him. Jack grinned.

"I know now, don't I?" He sneered at Beckett, taking his seat. With Jack gone, he advanced on Elizabeth.

"Where have you been?"

"In with the principal," she shrugged, handing him a pass. Cutler smiled nervously.

"How… is your father, Elizabeth?" He said, straightening his tie self-consciously.

"Fine enough, Mr. Beckett—where's my seat?"

"Next to…" He checked his list again, "Will Turner." She turned to see him hiding behind his black notebook. A blush crept on her cheeks, but she dismissed it, taking the seat beside him.

"Hello again," she said softly. He lowered the book, revealing his red face, and smiled.

"'Ello," he said just as softly. Her stomach did a back flip at his smooth accent. She smiled.

"Having a good first day?"

"I's all right," he shrugged, looking briefly back at Jack (who gave him a double thumbs-up) before smiling. "Met some real characters…"

"That's Riverside for you," she said, finding it extremely easy to talk to him. "How are your classes going?"

"They're… going?" He said, unsure of what to say. She blushed.

"Yeah… weird question to be asked on the first day."

"Not the weirdest, though--"

"Attention!" Mr. Beckett cleared his throat again. "Today, we will go over the agenda for the year and I will pass out Beowulf books, which I would like for you all to read by Friday…"

As the class groaned, all Will could do was smile at the idea of sitting next to Elizabeth Swann for the rest of the school year.

"I fucking hate that little jerk," Jack sighed dramatically as he advanced on Will during their ninth period study hall. Will quirked a brow, but said nothing, returning to his sheet of paper. He was currently mapping out how he was going to fix up his latest project after school, an old Volkswagen Beetle that a little old lady brought in the day before.

"Why?" Ana Maria asked from the seat next to Will.

"Because," Jack said, grabbing the paper from Will's desk, thereby getting his attention, and crumpling it up to a ball and tossing it aside, "he's the reason I've never been able to graduate… He's the only class that I've failed," he said, shrugging. "And because it's required, I've been held back all these years."

"Why," Will seethed, glaring at Jack, "don't you just do your work?"

"I do," Jack said simply, looking almost insulted by Will's insinuation, "he just… _hates_ me."

"Don't be so dramatic, Sparrow," a voice spat from the next row over. The three turned to see James Norrington looking vehemently at Jack, who returned the favor. "We all know that you're just too _drunk_ all the time to pay attention in any class."

"Hey, _Jimmy_," Jack said, turning to the football player with a grin, "how does it smell?"

"What smells?" James asked, flinching as Jack called him 'Jimmy'. Jack smiled.

"Your ass," he said, grinning. "I mean, that's probably all you _can_ smell, seeing as how far your head's shoved up it."

"Hilarious, Sparrow," a female voice said, and Will saw Elizabeth move beside James. "You're just jealous that James has a _future_ ahead of him."

"Oh, yes, a _big_ future, I'm sure…" Jack said, rolling his eyes. "He'll get paid millions to run around like a lunatic and tackle other fully grown men over _balls_," Jack grinned at his another one of his insinuations. "Very masculine, Jimmy-boy," Jack said sarcastically.

"Coming from the man who wears eyeliner," Elizabeth spat.

"C'mon, luv," Jack said, spreading his arms wide open, "you know you love it… and you know you want it."

"Syphilis?" She said with a smirk, not missing a beat. "No thanks." Jack rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, your boyfriend's herpes is so much better… least mine's curable," he shrugged, rolling Elizabeth's insults off his back (and succeeding in making James blush). He turned back to Will to have found that he had walked away from his desk, moving towards the computer in the back room, Ana Maria at his side. "Figures…" He groaned, moving from his position on top of the desk, to the chair. He buried his head in his arms, and went to sleep.

"How often do they do that?" Will asked Ana Maria, surfing through the sites before he found what he was looking for; he came upon the site with a virtual skeleton of the old Beetle. Ana Maria grinned.

"Everyday," she said. "They've never liked each other…"

"How come they know each other so well?"

"Her father's the principal," Ana Maria said, watching over Will's shoulder with interest. "And Jack pretty much lives in that office; she's seen him in there since she was a freshmen, and even before that. Every time she'd go in there, without fail, he'd hit on her," Ana Maria seemed a bit angry at this, but shrugged it off and continued, "so when he got on James's case when we were all sophomores, Elizabeth stuck up for him because she knew Sparrow's weak points," she said nonchalantly. She looked over her shoulder at the couple, who were making no effort to hide their affections; James was caressing Elizabeth's cheek, and she had her arms around his neck. "They've been dating ever since."

"Lovely," Will said, slightly distracted. "But… isn't the guy supposed to save the girl in order to land the date?" He joked, causing Ana Maria to laugh.

"James… just isn't that guy."

"Hello, Mr. Brown," Will called. He heard a grunt in reply, and sighed. He buttoned up his blue shirt and looked around the little shop. Finally, he walked towards his latest project, his trust tools by his side. He hadn't been working on it for more than ten minutes before he heard the tell-tale sound of a broken-down car pull into the small lot. He heard it turn off, the car door open and close, and he heard high-heeled footsteps making their way towards him.

"Hello?" A faint voice called. Will's head jerked upwards, causing him to hit it on the open hood of the car. He rubbed his head, looking up at the voice, finding himself face to face with…

"Elizabeth, what are you doing here?"

"My car," she shrugged, pointing towards the clunker. "There's something wrong with it."

"Everything's wrong with it," Will muttered, and she frowned.

"Is it… not fixable?"

"No, it's fixable," Will said, walking towards the old car. He ran a hand over it and looked up at her. "It's just a matter of whether it's worth it."

"Worth it?"

"The parts are expensive—so expensive, you might actually save money by buying another car," he shrugged. "But I can't tell by looking at the exterior. Pop the hood for me."

"That… other car—the Beetle… don't you have to finish that—?" She asked, although she hoped he wouldn't return to it.

"The person who dropped it off didn't want it back," he said, looking up at her. "So I fooled around with it a bit, and I'm going to save up the money to buy the parts," he said simply. "Right now, I'm just messing with it to get out of doing other things."

"So, no?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"No."

The looked at each other, and began to laugh. She shook her head, and he smiled widely at her. "C'mon," he offered, showing her a certain piece of the engine. "Let me show you what's wrong…"

They spent the better part of Will's shift talking about cars, school, Riverside, and anything else that Elizabeth could throw at him to keep him from going away. For some reason, she liked spending time with Will; she loved his laugh, and how easy it was to talk to him. Of course Will didn't mind; hell, he was even thinking up things to talk about himself. It wasn't until a large van pulled into the parking lot that they were thrown back to reality.

"Is it driveable?" She asked, looking at her car before meeting his eye again.

"No…" He shook his head, "I'm surprised you made it here," he said honestly. She sighed.

"Great," she said bitterly, searching in her purse for what he supposed was a cell phone. Suddenly, he heard the door to the van open and—

"Willy!"

Isabelle had let Jasmine out of her carseat, and she was tottering quickly towards Will and Elizabeth, who paused to watch the scene unfold. She saw Will's face flash two emotions; worry for her well-fare (she was about to fall) and pure joy and love at the sight of her. He rushed towards her and picked her up quickly, spinning the young girl around in his arms.

"Jasmine!" He said, spinning her faster. She squealed louder, bringing a smile to Elizabeth's face. He stopped and held her up, making her calm down only a little before she looked around. Finally, the toddler spotted Elizabeth.

"Stwanger danja! Stwanger danja!" She said, pointing at Elizabeth with a chubby finger. Elizabeth's eyes widened, but they softened when Will laughed.

"No, Jasmine, _friend_." She looked at Will. "_Friend._" The girl looked at him for a moment, before turning to Elizabeth.

"Fwiend." Elizabeth smiled at Jasmine before looking at Will curiously for a moment.

"This is your…?" She asked, and Will immediately realized what all this had caused. His secret was now revealed to Elizabeth, and he turned a bright red.

"I'm… erm… you see, this is…" He stuttered, and Elizabeth cocked her head to the side. "It's… a rather long story…"

"Will! Are you ready to go?" Stella called from the front seat. Will looked back at her for a moment.

"Give me a moment, please?" He asked, and she nodded. He looked back at Elizabeth, who was watching him closely. "Erm… do you have any plans tonight?"

"Why?"

"Because, well," he ran a free hand through his hair before grabbing Jasmine's hands (which had started to pull at his longer locks), "my family is going out for dinner, and I noticed that you don't have a ride, and… well," he stammered over his words, looking at his shoes. "I figured… I could explain it all to you if you came with us—we could give you a ride home and everything."

"Oh," Elizabeth said in a very quiet voice. There was a long pause before she smiled, "I'd love to, Will."

"All right, then… Hold on a moment, please," he said, turning back to Stella. "D'you want me to take Jasmine in my car, Stella?"

"She seems a bit attatched to you, anyway," she said, smiling as the little girl found her way into Will's hair again. "Meet us at Pepperoni's soon, all right…" She turned around but turned back quickly. "Is… your friend coming with us?"

"D'you mind?" Will asked shyly. Stella smiled.

"Of course not—I'm just happy to know your first day went well… We'll meet you there, Will," she nodded, turning back at telling Isabelle to shut the doors and make sure everyone was buckled. Will smiled at Elizabeth.

"C'mon… We'll drive in my car," he said, moving towards his red Mustang. Elizabeth's jaw dropped.

"This is yours?"

"Yeah," he said, his cheeks heating up as he unlocked his trunk. He pulled out a car seat and shut it quickly, opening up his driver's side door and setting Jasmine down on the seat. He put the car seat in the back seat and strapped Jasmine in. He backed out and looked at Elizabeth. "I bought it off of an older man who didn't have the money to rebuild it. I saved my pay from the summer, and rebuilt it piece by piece," he said with pride, rubbing the roof. Elizabeth smiled at the obvious devotion he had for his craft as she took a look at the car, taking a moment to take in its grandeur. "C'mon," he said, getting in the car and buckling his seat belt. She followed suit, sitting in the passenger seat. She glanced at him for a moment, before she looked outside, as if wondering if she should be doing this at all. When she looked back at him, he was making funny faces at Jasmine through the rear-view mirror, and she was squealing happily.

"Willy! Silly, silly, Willy!"

He fixed the rear view mirror and started the car, the roar of the engine bringing a smile to his lips. She smiled faintly herself, although a pang of guilt rang in her heart.

_He's just giving you a ride… you are not on a date!_

They rode in silence, with Jasmine occasionally squealing and clapping her hands. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. "I… noticed you had a large family…" she said quietly, looking at Will. "Are they all your siblings?" He flinched, and her brows furrowed in worry.

"Technically… no," he said quietly, his eyes scanning the road as if it held the answers to Elizabeth's unasked questions. "Elizabeth, I am--"

"Willy—fast! Go faster, Willy!"

"Jasmine, please…" Will said softly, although his voice was firm with reason. "No shouting in the car."

"Sowwy," she said, looking down at her shoes. Will sighed.

"You are--?" Elizabeth pressed, her eyes searching his face.

"I am… a foster child," he said, looking at her briefly. His heart broke at the pity in her eyes; a pity he neither wanted nor deserved. "My mum died when I was ten—my father left us right after I was born; he really only stayed long enough to make sure I took his name… the bastard." He said, looking out towards the road again. "I've been in and out of foster homes ever since… Riverside is my sixth high school in four years." He looked back at her, before turning away again. "I turn eighteen this November… hopefully I will remain here until I'm old enough to live on my own."

"I knew there was more behind you than what meets the eye," Elizabeth said quietly after a pause.

"And I'm sure Jasmine was a dead give-away…" he snorted, and she smiled, looking back at the little girl in the back seat, who's eyes were wide and her mouth wide open.

"Willy—bad word! Bad word, Willy!" She shouted, causing Will to jump up in his seat.

"Jasmine, shh," he said, looking at her in the rear view window. "Shh—it'll be a secret, all right?"

"Secwet?"

"Secret," Will affirmed, and she smiled; this new proposition made her feel special.

"I know somefink you don't know!" She clapped her hands together. Will sighed.

"Yes… you do." He said, winking at her. She giggled.

"How many other siblings… erm… well, how many other kids are living with you?"

"Stella and Mark adopted seven other children—I'm the only foster child. They also have three of their own daughters and eight grandchildren," he said, after a moment's pause to think. "Mark is a very wealthy business woman, and Stella is a nurse—Mark is also very good with stocks… they made a fortune when they were very young."

"I see," Elizabeth said, watching him. He seemed much more relaxed, as if telling her this information released the burden he had unbeknownst placed on his shoulders. "What are their names?"

"Well, obviously this is Jasmine… Jasmine!" He called quietly to the back. She squealed happily. "This is Elizabeth."

"Bet!" She said, clapping her hands. "Bet! Hi, Bet!"

"Hi, Jasmine," Elizabeth smiled. She looked back at Will.

"The oldest of them is Isabelle," he said, looking thoughtful for a moment. "She's beautiful; golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes," he said fondly, turning on another street; Elizabeth realized he must've been taking them a back way; never in her life had it taken her this long to get to Pepperoni's. "Justin just turned seven today, and he's got the wildest red hair I've ever seen…" He said, smiling, "The other two boys—Luke and Johnny—are brothers… Luke has this wild set of curls, and it looks as if Johnny's just now getting them in…" He looked at her briefly, and she saw the pride in his eyes. "The last two girls, Lola and Margarita, are sisters from Puerto Rico… I don't know how they made it here, but I know that they didn't know a lot of English… when they get angry, they'll talk in Spanish to each other…" He said. "I've picked up on a few things myself, and I know what they're saying when they talk about me." He said, shrugging. "Jasmine's the youngest, and Johnny's a close second—I think Johnny turned three a day before Jasmine turned two…" He nodded, thinking about it.

"You and Jasmine are close," she commented, as she watched him. Everytime he mentioned the girl in the back seat, his eyes would travel behind him and he would lock eyes with the little girl for a moment.

"Her first word was my name," Will affirmed. "Erm… or rather 'Willy'." She chuckled as he blushed.

"I think it's cute," she said, watching as they finally pulled into Pepperoni's. Will pulled in a parking space beside his family's van. He turned the car off and got out, pushing the seat in so he could pull Jasmine out of the back. He held the little girl in his arms as he walked in the restaurant with Elizabeth.

"Are you sure you want to stay?" Will asked as they walked into the Italian restaurant, spotting his family in the back room. He looked at her warily as Jasmine squirmed in his arms. She smiled.

"I haven't eaten dinner, and you are my ride home," she shrugged. "I really didn't think my car would be that bad," she said surprised. He smiled.

"All right then, but don't say I didn't warn you," he said, nodding to the host who rolled her eyes and kept writing down something in her pad. Will grunted, shifting Jasmine in his arms as he maneuvered around tables before finally sitting down with his family. He placed Jasmine in her high chair and pulled it close by him, Elizabeth sitting down across from him.

"Will," Lola piped up, two seats down from Elizabeth. "Who's she?"

"Yeah!" Margarita chimed in. Will smiled.

"Everyone, this is Elizabeth," Will said, and they all collectively looked at a blushing Elizabeth. "Now, can we get on with this?" He asked, and they all chuckled lightly, each child individually introducing themselves to Will's new friend. Finally, Justin was the last one. His bright blue eyes shimmered mischievously as he looked at Elizabeth through his red fringe.

"Hi," he said loudly, sticking his hand out. Elizabeth took it and shook it.

"Hi," she replied.

"You're very pretty," he commented, looking at Will (who looked horrified). This made Justin smile wider. He looked back at Elizabeth. "What're you doing here with Will? He's really not that good-looking."

"Oh, well, Will's just a fr--"

"Are you two out on a date?"

"N--"

"You know, you're Will's first date ever," Justin continued, and at this point Will was hiding behind his menu. "And you are really way too pretty for him."

"I don't think so," Elizabeth said smartly, her own eyes gleaming mischievously. "But I think he's had more dates than just me—and I'm sure you're just very jealous… I saw you looking at that pretty girl over there," her eyes moved to a girl around Justin's age who was sloppily eating her spaghetti, and only succeeding in spilling it down her front. Justin's eyes opened, horrified. "Perhaps I should go over and ask her to join us—then we could double date."

"You wouldn't!" He said, disgusted by the idea. Elizabeth brightened.

"You're right—but I will if you keep teasing Will like this," she said smugly, winking at Will when he came out from his hiding place. "I don't want you to ruin our first date."

"Our what--?" Will spluttered. "But, Elizabeth, don't you have a boy--" She kicked him under the table and he quieted down. That's when he understood that she was teaching Justin a lesson… in a very strange way. He quieted down, however, not about to protest this new arrangement. After all, he wasn't about to deny the feeling in his stomach whenever Elizabeth smiled at him, nor the jolt he got at the sound of her voice. He smiled and looked at a defeated Justin with an air of arrogance.

"Bet and Willy!" Jasmine squealed, breaking the silence by causing everyone to laugh. "Bet and Willy, Bet and Willy, Bet and Willy!" She shrieked. Finally, Will subdued her by placing a few crayons on her placemat, and she went straight to work on a new masterpiece.

"Sorry," Will said under his breath when the attention shifted to Luke's recount of his first day at Kindergarten.

"Don't worry, Willy," she winked at him from across the table, her eyes still holding the teasing twinkle from earlier. "Your lack of a love life is a secret to be kept by me," she said, and he sighed. "But I don't think you'll need to keep it for much longer," she said, and he looked at her strangely.

"Why?"

"Because, William Turner," she said, taking a dainty bite of her breadstick. "You are absolutely charming—I know girls who would kill for a guy like you."

He turned a repulsive red color at this, only causing her eyes to twinkle even more.

Sorry it took me so long to update! I was really rather busy with just a bunch of things at the moment, my job's getting harder and harder, and homelife isn't as easy as it once was. Well, enough about me:)

Thanks for reading--and especially thanks for all the wonderful reviews for my last chapter! I can't believe how well-recieved this fic is!

Did you all see AWE? I **loved** it! May Willabeth live forever! Haha...


	3. Their Relationship

_My King_

_Chapter Three: Their Relationship_

* * *

"Elizabeth!"

She had almost turned her head. She had almost turned around and ran towards him as she heard him following her. The only thing stopping her was her two best friends' arms around her waist, leading her on, whispering words of gossip in her ears, chattering on and on about how absolutely dreadful that new boy was.

"He's trouble, you know," Jessica warned, the voice of reason, as always. Samantha rolled her eyes with a snort.

"I like my boys bad," she said with a giggle, but turned serious when Elizabeth looked at her. "But not that bad—he hangs out with that Jack Sparrow character."

"And 'Jack Sparrow' is like a synonym for 'trouble'…" Jessica said, clucking her tongue.

"English, please."

"Oh, Christ, Sam—Jack Sparrow and trouble are the same word—I'm not being serious, it's an expression," she cut in as Sam looked like she was about to correct her friend. She shut her mouth and stuck out her lip.

"Besides," Sam picked up, as cheerily as possible, "he's a mechanic… he'll never make enough money to take you someplace nice."

"Not like James, anyway," Jessica muttered.

"I thought you didn't like James?" Sam asked, confused.

"I don't," Jessica said with a shrug. "But he's a spoiled brat… and therefore can spoil Elizabeth."

"Girls," Elizabeth warned, glaring at both of them. "Stop."

"Lizzie," Jessica cooed as they stopped by her locker, smiling at her sweetly. "Just… promise us you won't be hanging out with that outsider anymore?"

"I ca--" she looked at them, and realized that if she continued to see Will, she'd lose them. A reputation was everything in high school, and she knew how afraid they were to tarnish theirs. She sighed, bit her lip, and nodded. "I promise."

* * *

She didn't turn at his first two calls; she was walking with her friends, chatting and laughing—perhaps she hadn't heard him. He was holding the very papers that, once signed, meant that her car could and would be fixed within the next few days. She didn't turn the third time, stopping at her locker. Her friends had left her then, their retreating backs disappearing into the crowd of teens heading down to the cafeteria for lunch. Will was about to be late for his next class, but he really wanted to make sure Elizabeth got the papers. 

"Elizabeth," he said soundly, leaning against the locker next to hers as she continued to rummage through her things.

"Will," she said in a tone that clearly meant she was not in the mood for talking. "You need to go away."

"What?" He was flabbergasted; why was she shooing him away? Two days ago they had laughed over pizza with his family! Two days ago—

They hadn't been at school.

He bit his lip, dreading the answer he knew was coming…

"People can't see me with you," she said, standing up. She wasn't looking him in the eye, and he was afraid for her to. What would he see? Anger? Sadness? She closed the door and finally looked at him, and he was greeted with—

Guilt.

"If… if they see me with you," she said quietly, her eyes pleading with him to understand, "my reputation's gone… they… they think you're trouble, Will," she said, biting her lips and fumbling with her notebook. The bell had rung; the crowd had dispersed. It was simply them, alone, in the hallway. "Just because you're… different."

"Different?"

"Your accent… your clothes… your job… your car," she said, her hand flailing to the side with each new problem. "They don't understand any of it… if… if they knew about your family--"

"What about them?" Anger was building up inside of him. He clenched the papers in his hand, his eyes blazing into hers. She shook her head.

"It's just different," she shrugged. "Different, in high school, is never good," she said quietly. "Different should be good, but it's not… everyone's so closed-minded, Will… I… We…" she broke off, looking down the hall for a moment; towards their next class. "We can be friends, if you want," she said, looking back at him, silently hoping he'd agree. "Just… not here."

"In this hallway?" Although he was attempting to be humorous, she caught the hurt in his voice. She didn't say anything, but simply walked into Mr. Beckett's room without another glance back at him. Deciding it would be a waste to go in now—without a pass, or a valid excuse—he began to walk towards his locker, the papers now forgotten on the ground beside Elizabeth's locker.

As he was turning his lock, trying desperately to shoo the pounding thoughts of Elizabeth out of his head and instead remember his combination, he heard approaching footsteps. He opened his locker quickly, grabbed a few random books, and began to make his way in the opposite direction.

"Wait right there, young man!"

The voice was commanding, and he closed his eyes, letting out a breath through his nose. **Great**, he thought. **The bell's about to ring at any moment**, he glanced at the clock, **and this is **_**exactly**_** what those people need to see…**

"Where's your pass?" He turned to face a security man, holding out his hand expectantly, his beady eyes glaring into Will's confused ones.

"Pass?" He over-exaggerated his accent, looking around the school, confused. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said with a smile, "'M an exchange student," he laughed, watching the old man, hoping he'd fall for it. "And I was just--"

"Ah, Mister Turner," he closed his eyes and contemplated whether or not it would be appropriate to groan. "I—ah—assumed you were cutting my class," he turned and looked down at Mr. Beckett, who was smiling smugly up at him. "So I left Ms. Swann in charge… she said that you must've been in her father's office," he seemed to almost be giddy with glee, "That you'd have an excuse—a pass, perhaps… I left her in charge and came to investigate—and look!" He gestured towards the security man, before he folded his arms over his chest, "You obviously have neither."

"Mr. Beckett--"

"Come, _William_," he said, grabbing Will's elbow and leading him around the hall. "Let's see what Principal Swann has to say about this."

* * *

"Ah, Mister Turner," the voice came from in the corner of the room, where the tall man stood. He was dressed in a smart suit, his hair seeming to be only growing in patches. He had a wedding band around his left ring finger, and a class ring around the right. He played with his wedding band idly. Will looked down at the desk before him, where a golden paperweight brightly shone the engraving "Principal Weatherby Swann". He bit his lip and looked about the room. Swann turned on him. "Skipping class—on the third day of school, no less," he clucked his tongue, his blue eyes seeming to pierce Will's very skin as he glared. He sat at his desk, his hands folded before him, watching Will like a hawk. "Why?" 

The question had been so short, so rough that it had surprised Will. He jerked his head upwards and looked at the elder man before he looked away just as quickly. "I… had been talking to Eli—this girl." He said quietly, staring at his hands in his lap. "I'm—fixing her car, you see… and… I needed her to go over some paperwork. She… was rude to me, and she walked away from me. By the time this was all over, there was barely ten minutes left in class. I didn't have a pass or an excuse, so. I figured it wasn't worth my time going," he shrugged simply.

"Mr. Beckett has a three-strike policy, he tells me," Principal Swann said, staring at Will harshly. "Was it your third strike?"

"First."

"Yet even though it was only your first," Principal Swann continued in an air that made it known to Will that he already knew the answer to his own question, "you still did not return. Why?"

"I was upset."

"Upset?"

"Yes, quite," Will said, meaning that he wanted it left at that. Unfortunately, Principal Swann had other plans.

"You were upset—over what?" He asked, taking on a slightly different tone of voice. "Will," he said quietly, having figured out his name from his student file. "Are-are there problems at home?"

As easy as it would've been for Will to have said 'yes', he had a hard time doing so. He bit his lip and looked the older man in the eye. "I-I'm having a hard time adjusting, sir, is all."

"I see," Weatherby said, his eyes softening. "Well… six high schools in four years couldn't have been easy," he said, looking through Will's file. Will felt completely exposed and just… uncomfortable. The secrets he had tried to keep from everybody were right there—in front of Elizabeth's father! Granted, she knew, but just not… everything. "And you weren't very young when your mother died," he said, looking down at the date in the file. Will bit his lip, watching the older man in pain. "And… no word on your father--? Will," he looked up and Will hated the pity he saw in Weatherby Swann's intense blue eyes, "I'm going to let this one go… I-I can understand how hard it must be for you to adjust, and rather than punish you, I think I'll try and help you."

"Help me, sir?" Will's voice was very quiet, and almost at the point of breaking.

"Yes, I think that instead of detention, I will assign you to an after-school activity," he nodded, going to his desk and pulling out a folder. Inside was a list of after-school activities, and Will was cringing at the mere thought.

"But, sir—I have a job, and—"

"Nonsense, Will, you shall do this or I will have to suspend you," Principal Swann's voice became harsh again. "Such is the policy of this school." When Will said nothing, Principal Swann continued, a finger skimming down the page. "Aha! Prom committee!" He said, smiling up at Will. "My daughter's in charge of the organization. I'll discuss with her about getting you a position with her. She's a very nice girl, who I'm sure would enjoy helping you adjust better to this town, don't you think?"

Will bit his tongue and smiled, "I-I haven't really talked to her, sir."

"Well, all the better then—a new friend!" Principal Swann seemed overjoyed with his decision, but all Will could think about was how hellish it was going to be for him the rest of the year. The bell rang, as Principal Swann was about to continue. He grinned at Will, "Well, off you go then to your next class!"

Will left the office as quickly as possible, but not before he heard Principal Swann shout that prom committee met on Thursdays after school at Pepperoni's.

* * *

"Prom Committee?" Jack repeated rather loudly in Study Hall ninth period, causing many people to stare as he began laughing hysterically at a very red-faced William Turner. He had been relaying the story to Ana when Jack had overheard. After hearing that Jack was the reason Elizabeth couldn't be seen talking to him anymore, Will was making it his mission to avoid the rocker as much as he could manage. Obviously, he wasn't trying hard enough. 

"Shut it, Jack," Will snapped, throwing a pencil at the kid's head, causing Jack to only howl in further laughter at Will's embarrassment.

"Yes, Sparrow, shut it," Elizabeth snapped, rounding on him from her position in James's arms. "Jesus, I can't even hear what I'm thinking."

"You can think?" Jack didn't miss a beat. "And to think; I only though mosquitoes could buzz around in other people's business and just wait for the opportune moment to attack and hurt them!" Jack glowered at her, and she rolled her eyes at him, sneaking a glance at Will to see that he was drawing something in that black book of his. She sighed.

"Yes, well," she paused, looking at Jack for a moment before she laughed and turned away. Self consciously, Jack tugged at his bandana, but found it firmly in place. Confused, he whipped the mirror out of his hair and searched his face for the offensive matter. He pulled the mirror down and looked at her suspiciously.

"What's so funny?"

She didn't answer, and instead pulled out of James's arms and pushed herself into a chair, beginning her homework. James glowered at Sparrow before turning around and doing the same.

"What th' hell did I ever do to you, Jimmy-boy?"

"Get a life, Sparrow."

"Get some talent, Jimmy," Jack said, sliding off the desk (where he had been perched) and lounging in his chair. Elizabeth turned around and opened her mouth and then closed it.

She glared at him before snapping, "James has real talent, that you are simply jealous of."

"Sorry to burst your bubble, dearie," Jack said, leaning in and getting rather close to Elizabeth's face, "but the only reason darling Jimmy made the team is because his daddy's the coach."

"Just because you couldn't make the team your freshman year--"

"I tried out as a joke, luv!" Jack spread his arms out and had a good laugh. Other people were watching now, and he was begging Elizabeth not to continue.

"It was only a joke when you choked during the last run before the final cut," she spat vehemently. Jack glowered.

"At least I don't choke every god damn game like your _girlfriend_ does," he said just as viciously, prodding her in the shoulder with a finger. "And the coach still starts him—I wonder why?!"

"My _boy_friend has more talent in his little toe than you possess in your entire body! You only made that dumb little band of yours after you failed so miserably at football!" She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled, knowing she had won. "And you're not even that good at that! You don't play an instrument, and your definition of singing is more or less like the common person's definition of screaming!"

"ENOUGH!"

They both turned to see one very angry Will Turner, his eyes piercing the both of them. "Jack, leave her alone. If she wants to live in her own perfect little world, you should let her," he said, not even glancing Elizabeth's way. His words only stung a little, it was the fact that he couldn't even say her name that bothered her. "And Miss Swann," he started off politely, before he glowered at her in such a way that she was actually frightened. "The next time you want to pick on one of my _best_ friends," he said, pointedly putting emphasis on the word 'best friend', "don't. In fact, just don't even talk to us anymore," he said quietly, making sure only a few people heard him. "Let us be, and we'll let you be."

With that the bell rang and he walked out of the room, leaving the stunned room in his wake.

* * *

The rushed clanking of his tools against the metal of her car was refreshingly calming to him, compared to the rest of his surroundings. The light drizzle outside made his mood all the more damp, and it wasn't helping that he had heard her light, timid footsteps only a few moments ago. He knew that she was watching him as he worked, waiting for him to notice her. Little did she know that two could play at her little game; if she didn't want to be his friend at school, he didn't want to be her friend at his job. He'd simply tell her his boss thinks she's too different and uptight for a guy like him. She's too— 

Perfect. Her hand was on his shoulder, the fingers gently clenching over it in a small squeeze. She was so close he could smell her wonderful perfume, and yet she seemed miles away. She was untouchable, and not his, no matter how much he wanted her to be. He stood up and maneuvered away from her as quickly as possible. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

"I'm sorry."

The words had come out of her mouth, but he felt like it was too late. She had made him feel so inferior and small, and then went about trashing his friend like it was nothing. Where was the Elizabeth Swann who had laughed at his younger siblings only two days ago at Pepperoni's? Where was the Elizabeth Swann of whom Jasmine still asks about?

The person before him was not that Elizabeth Swann. This one had razor sharp claws that were always bared; like a permanent wall keeping everyone else out. He glared at her, and she bit her lip, the claws retracting only slightly.

"Did you hear me?" She asked quietly, her hands flying to her pockets. She looked down at her pink pumps before looking up at him with hopeful brown eyes. "I said… I'm sorry."

He clenched his fist around his wrench, his knuckles turning white from the strain. He was gnawing at the inside of his cheek to keep from speaking. His eyes were focused on the space above her, and his mind was chanting 'stay strong' over and over again.

"Will, please," she was nearly begging now, her voice sounded as if she was on the verge of tears. Now he really couldn't look at her. He was too afraid he'd scoop her up in his arms and kiss her until the tears went away. He just reminded himself that not only does she have a boyfriend who hates him, but her friends hate him, too. "Please, Will, you must understand that--"

"That what, Elizabeth?" Finally, he had found his voice, and he hated how cold it sounded as he spoke. "That… that because I'm so bloody different, you have to flat out crush my self-esteem just because your precious friends think I'm trouble? That because Jack Sparrow is so god-damned different you can't even waste your precious time to get to know him before you tear the poor kid to shreds in front of thirty other people? Are you sorry because now I'm on your damned prom committee? That I'm too close to you now and people might perceive us to be friends? How horrible would that be, Elizabeth?" He asked bitterly, throwing the wrench on the ground in his anger; startling her all the more. "How fucking horrible would it be to be my friend, hmm?"

She bit her lip, her eyes welling up in tears. "I-I…" She stammered, her hazel eyes going down to her shoes. He watched as her shoulders shook; he saw the stream of tears fall to the dirtied floor of his shop. As much as he had begun to like her; as much as he was sure he was falling in love with her, he couldn't bring himself to comfort her. Instead he turned away from her, picked up his wrench, and kept working. He heard her footsteps walk away. He heard her muffled sob as she got into her father's car, and his heart broke into a million pieces when she turned on the ignition and drove away.

* * *

_Author's Notes: _I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. I can promise it won't be so long next time. :) I hope you're all still reading, and if you like it well enough, leave me a review! 


	4. His Friends

Disclaimer: Nothing's changed, so this hasn't.

Author's Note: Hi! Sorry for taking so long to update, but I've been really, really busy. The boss wouldn't get off my back, my boyfriend's a little testy right now, and my friends and I are planning this road trip, and... ugh. Long story short, I've had this chapter finished probably since I last updated, I just never got the time to upload it.

I also have some more bad news... I'm participating in this writing contest where I have to type up a 50,000 word novel in just November, and I can't have started it already (or else I'd just use this). So, I'm taking a month-long hiatus from this story to focus on my novel, In the Light of the Moon. Good news, however, is that it is a fanfiction novel, but it's Harry Potter based. I'm starting it tonight after I post this update. So, for any Harry Potter fans-- check out my new fanfiction! It's a doozy... :)

And I'm sorry for this bull-shit filler chapter, but I promise the next chapter will be chalk-full of... well... can't give away, now, can I? ;) It'll be worth it, though-- promise!_

* * *

My King  
__Chapter Four: His Friends_

He hadn't talked to her in three weeks. It was the first of October, and William Turner had not said a word to Elizabeth Swann since they met at his shop those many days ago. She had even stopped checking on her car, and he wasn't about to ask her why. He spent his days pretending that she was just any other stranger, and his nights wasting away in front of her pathetic excuse of a car, wondering wildly to himself why he kept up with it. He knew the reason, but that rational part of his brain kept winning, and he kept lying to himself.

English was especially hard, because she was _right there_. Partner work was a bitch, but luckily Adrienne had a knack for cutting classes, and Jack Sparrow wasn't one for following rules anyways. Normally, they would work together. Surprisingly, Jack did most of the work.

"Been through it three times already," Jack shrugged as he quite easily answered the packet of questions they had been given on Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. He handed the paper to Will so he could scribble his name at the top. "I could probably recite the bloody book to you."

Will smiled, leaning back in his chair and staring at his eccentric friend, who was, once again, absorbed into the task of fixing his eye make-up. When he looked up from his mirror to see Will staring he rolled his eyes. "Fuck off, Turner, I'm not your type," he muttered, grinning. Will rolled his eyes and shoved him, returning to his drawing of the old Beetle he was still fiddling with.

"What're you going to do with that one?" Jack muttered, looking around in slight paranoia before bending forward to see Will's handiwork.

"Going to repair it and sell it," Will shrugged. "Hopefully before Halloween," he added, thinking about it.

"Halloween?"

"I turn eighteen on November 1," Will said, looking at Jack hard for a moment, as if figuring out if he could trust him. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I have to be out of my house and on my own by the second of November. Thusly, I need the money that this car will, hopefully, generate."

"Or else--?"

"Or else," Will said, leaning back over to look at his drawing again, "as you would say it—I'm fucked."

* * *

"I'd like to thank all of you for making it to our meeting today," Elizabeth Swann said from the head of the table at Pepperoni's. She smiled brightly at her fellow committee members, turning to the person on her right. "Jess, is there anyone missing?" 

"Just Will Turner," she said, nearly spitting Will's name as she did. "But what else is new?" She said with a wicked grin. Elizabeth sighed, but said nothing to stop her from continuing to bash the new kid.

"All right, then, let's get started… have we decided whether or not we want to hire a band or a DJ?"

"I think a band would be much more memorable," Jess offered, leaning back in her seat. "I mean, a DJ would simply play the corniest songs in the world; a band could make the prom seem more like a fun rock concert or something."

"But there aren't many good local bands in this area," Sam piped up from across the table, swiping her blonde hair out of her eyes so she could roll them for everyone to see. "And we don't have the budget to bring someone big here."

"Anyone else have any suggestions?" Elizabeth asked the group, exasperated by her two friends' constant bickering.

"Yeah," a voice said from the doorway, as Will Turner took off his scarf and jacket and plopped down in a seat at the foot of the table, "you should hire a high-school band."

"A high school band?"

"More or less a band created out of kids in our own grade," Will said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the spot above Elizabeth's head.

"Like--?" Jess said, in a tone that meant that none existed and that Will was crazy.

"Like Captain Jack and his Wenches," Will said, and Jess and Sam shared a wicked laugh.

"Keep dreaming, new kid," Sam roared.

"Heavy metal at my prom—no, thanks," Jess shook her head.

"They were coming up with some new material _strictly_ for the prom," Will said, not appearing at all disgruntled by their rudeness. "And I'm sure they'd play a few covers if there was a specific song you wanted to hear."

"I'll put them on the list," Elizabeth said with a shrug.

"Are you serious, Lizzie?" Sam suddenly came back down to earth in enough time to grab the paper from Elizabeth.

"Are you feeling all right, Elizabeth?" Jess said carefully, eyeing her friend warily. Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"It's a damn suggestion, you two," she spat angrily, swiping the paper off of Sam again. "Stop making it sound like I just agreed to marry him."

"Stop making it sound like I asked you to," Will said, finally looking at her. "Or that I would _want_ to, anyway." It hurt him, he knew, to be this mean to her, but they were talking as if he wasn't sitting right there. He had to do something to defend himself, and if it meant that he had to be a little less "nice, new boy" then he'd do it. Sam and Jess glared before Elizabeth cleared her throat.

"Any other suggestions?"

"My dad," a girl in purple sitting next to Sam spoke up, looking like a deer in headlights, "is a casting director in Los Angeles," she took a quick sip of her water before continuing. "I… could see if he could arrange for a band to perform."

"That's excellent!" Elizabeth smiled, writing that down on the list as well. "Thank you, Emma!"

"Not a problem," she said with a smile, returning to her napkin, where she had been doodling absentmindedly.

"Now, onto the thoughts of possible themes," she said, looking over the agenda for the meeting. "I know that at the end of last year we had decided on a few themes that we definitely wanted to do, and now it was just a matter of which one to pick."

"What're the choices?" Will blurted out again from the end of the table. Sam and Jess glared at him, and he sent them a nasty look in return.

"He wasn't here," Elizabeth hissed at her two friends with a glare as well before turning to regard Will again. "Um," she said, looking for the list among her many papers. She found it and smiled, reading them off to him, "New York City, Las Vegas, a Caribbean-style event, a Pirate Ship, a red-carpet affair," she squinted at the last one, "and a concert-style idea which would be perfect if we got a band," she said with a shrug. "They're all really decoration ideas, and what kind of favors we'd give out." She added with a nod. He shrugged his shoulders and she sighed, continuing. "I think we should vote right now so we can move onto decoration ideas…"

"Wait," Will said, sitting up straight and staring at Elizabeth. "You mean the," he counted the number of heads briefly before turning back to her, "seven people of this committee get to decide the prom for nearly a five-hundred kids?" He raised an eyebrow. "That's ludicrous."

"Do you have any other suggestions?" Sam said vehemently. Will smiled at her.

"Actually, I do," he said, crossing his arms and looking at Elizabeth. "I think our class should vote."

"What?"

"You heard me," he said looking at all of them now. "I mean… seven kids can't decide something for nearly a thousand," he was being reasonable—didn't they all get it? "You put your ideas down on a piece of paper, and have them pick the one they like the best. The most votes—there's your prom theme." He was explaining it to them as if it was simple math, and he was still getting confused looks. "What?" He finally said, getting uncomfortable under all the staring.

"Listen, Will," Sam said, making it seem like it was hurting her to say his name. "I don't know if they had proms in England, but here in America, we like to do things our way."

Elizabeth looked between punching Sam and throwing up. Jess was smiling smugly as she agreed with her friend whole-heartedly. The rest of the kids looked speechless. Will stood up quickly and violently, his chair falling to the floor with a crash. He put on his jacket and tied his scarf around his neck before he bent down and gripped the table harshly.

"Listen, Sam, I don't give a shit how you run your fucking prom. All I know is that I'd be pissed if I walked into some cheesy Las Vegas themed dance when I have a father with a gambling problem, or if I was at some dumb concert-themed prom when I just was at a concert the night before. To be perfectly honest, I wouldn't give a rat's ass if you served fucking McDonald's and I danced to music on a boom box. It's about the bloody memories, and I'd rather them be the memories I wanted, instead of the fucked up opinions of six very spoiled, stupid people," Will spat, slamming his hand on the table for back up. "Shove your prom ideas up your ass—and don't you dare talk about me as if you know anything about me," he added as he made his way towards the door. He looked Elizabeth in the eye for a moment before he looked back down at Sam, "because, _darling_, you don't know shit about anything, let alone me."

It was the second time in two months that Will had lost his trademark cool, but this time… it had been worth it.

* * *

"Will—Will, wait!" 

He kept walking, moving towards his car as quickly as his legs would take them. He shoved his hands in his pockets for his keys, and tried to ignore her frantic calls.

_Oh, how the tables have turned_, he thought gleefully, sticking the key into the lock of his door. He felt her hand on his shoulder for a moment before she had pushed him to turn around and face her, a hurt and angry look on her face. "What?" He asked, quirking a brow at her sudden roughness. She glowered.

"So, you're quitting, then?" She asked quietly, her eyes locked onto his.

"Yes, I do believe I am," he said, moving to turn around. She blocked him with her arm, leaning in so as to keep him from moving. "Why should it matter to you?"

"Because you're the only one in there with a bit of sense," she said, but the tone of her voice made it seem more of an insult than a compliment.

"I see," he said, a smug smile on his face suddenly. "Too bad you didn't have enough _sense_ to defend _me_."

"You did quite a good enough job yourself," she rolled her eyes. He smirked.

"Thank you very much," he said softly, perhaps realizing just how close they were. Their faces were almost inches apart, it would only take him—

"I gotta go," she said suddenly, backing away from him quickly and running to her father's car. She threw her purse onto the passenger's seat, and one last look at Will she got into the car and sped off. He groaned and turned around and got back in his car.

"_Here in America_," he mimicked Sam's high pitched voice as he turned the radio on loud. "That girl wouldn't know a damn thing about America if the Statue of Liberty kicked her in the ass."

* * *

"Wow," Ana Maria said as she took a sip of her coffee, staring at Jack in disbelief. "Will is in a really bad situation." 

"Normally," Jack said, stealing a fry off of her plate and drowning it in ketchup before he shoved it into his mouth, "the foster parents help their children to get stable jobs and apartments before kicking them out of the house." He swallowed and took a gulp of water, "But his foster parents are getting a new kid in the day after Will leaves; and they need a bedroom for the kid to go in." He shrugged. Ana Maria shook her head.

"That's nuts," she said again, eating her own fries. Jack sighed.

"I know, but what are we gonna do?" He said with a smirk. She stared at him for a moment before he buckled. "Fine—but what?"

"I don't know; I'm not an idea person!" She said, smacking his hand as he tried to nab another fry. "Don't be stealing my dinner just because you're too cheap to buy your own food!" Jack glowered at her.

"Can't eat—got band practice in an hour," he said, rubbing his temples with his index fingers as he tried to think. "I'm going to bloody show that damn Elizabeth Swann that I have talent," he spat. Ana Maria rolled her eyes and sighed. "Oh, come on—you heard her. The little bitch thinks she knows anything about talent when she's dating 'daddy's 'ittle boy'?" He snorted. She rolled her eyes, and he took it as an opportunity to steal another fry. She smirked at him but said nothing, taking another sip of her coffee.

"What're we going to do, Jack?"

"We could throw 'im a party," Jack offered with a shrug. "That's what I do whenever I'm bummed out; I have a few drinks and invite a few people over."

"It would get his mind off of things," Ana Maria mused. Jack chuckled.

"I was kidding."

"I'm not."

"Oh," Jack said, raising his hands in a mock-form of surrender. "All right, let's throw him a fucking party, then," he shrugged, smiling. "Maybe we could take donations at the door."

"That's it!" Ana Maria gasped. "We throw the party of the fucking year and charge everyone five bucks to get in—it's perfect!"

"Ana—I was kidding."

"And I'm not—my god, Jack, you're a fucking genius!"

"Well," he said modestly, examining his black fingernails with sudden interest. "Someone has to be."

* * *

"A party?" Will grunted, leaning over the Beetle he knew he shouldn't be working on, what with the half-dozen other cars in the lot that needed fixed. He stood up from the car and wiped his greasy hands on his jeans, quirking a brow at Jack. "Do I look like the partying 'type' or something--?" 

"Well, t'be honest, no," Jack grinned, leaning against the wall to the garage and smirking at the younger boy. "But this is what I do best, and I figger it'll help us both in the long run…"

"How would you throwing the party of the year help _me_?" Will grinned, bending back over the car. Jack scoffed.

"What makes you think it's free?" He grinned, walking towards Will and spreading his arms wide. "Think of it—five dollar charge to get in the bloody door, five more dollars if you want some bloody pizza, and a dollar for every time you fill up at the keg. A dollar per jello-shot, and maybe a twenty dollar charge to use the upstairs rooms, if you know what I'm saying?" Jack winked at Will who was staring at him incredulously. "I'm talking some major cash here!"

"And a major fine if you get caught with all that underage drinking and… other… things," Will snorted. "And there goes any shot you ever had towards college."

"Mate," Jack said, sitting on the front bumper of the car and smiling up at Will, "it's takin' me 'bout six years to pass high school… what makes you so sure 'm college material?" Will shrugged, leaning back over the car. "'Sides… the party'll be at my mum's house. She never sold it after moving in with my step-dad, and it just kind of sits there. The cops don't even know 'bout it."

"So?"

"So--? It's a garentee that they won't come, we won't get caught, and you'll have enough money to move out… and move out comfortably, I'm sure."

"No catch?"

"No catch—you just show up and accept your birthday presents, mate," Jack winked. "Especially mine… me thinks I'll call one of my lady friends to… well, prove you're not a eunuch."

"A eunuch?" Will said sharply, standing up quickly. "What makes you think--?"

"You banging that blonde chick yet?"

"Well… no, but--"

"Banging anybody--?"

"No, I'm waiting for the right--"

"—Person?" Jack grinned, scoffing as he moved away to get on his motorcycle. "Nah… everybody's doing that these days… definitely doesn't mean you're not incompetent or anything," the tone of which he said this, though, made Will sure that he was making fun of him. Will glowered as Jack continued. "I'll believe you got one when you use it, savvy?"

"Savvy?"

Jack shrugged. "'scuse me for bein' a bit original…" He grumbled, putting on his helmet and turning on the bike. "See you tomorrow, whelp."

"Whelp?" Will questioned to Jack's retreating back, but it was lost over the rumble of his bike. He shook his head, bemused, and returned to his work. "Original, maybe, but definitely not _sober_…"

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Next chapter: His Birthday._


	5. His Birthday

_My King_  
_His Birthday_

The Beetle hadn't sold like he had wanted it to, and that was the only reason why Will Turner could be found at the raging party happening in his best friend's abandoned house. The strobe lights were starting to give him a headache, and the only thing he could down his Advil in was alcoholic. So with a splitting headache and a dry throat, he sat in the corner and watched Jack Sparrow's "magic".

His best friend in question was currently at the makeshift bar made out of empty beer cases, mixing up fruity drinks while he took advantage of the low lighting and snuck glances down his patron's shirts. After all, the manly men of the party were at the keg in the corner, where Ana Maria was stationed. In between counting the bills being handed to her, she was glaring at Jack as if he was cheating on her right in front of her. Well, despite the fact that they weren't really dating, Will would've had to agree.

In the middle of the living room, people were apparently dancing. The only reason Will wasn't sure was because they were making it look like they were simply having sex with their clothes still on. He turned away, tired of watching people grope each other in public. He stood up and made his way into the kitchen. He backed away and walked out; he really hadn't needed to see them making human ice-cream sundaes. He shook his head and he was about to go into the family room where he saw a Johnny Depp picture playing, but was stopped at the door by someone demanding he pay five dollars to see it.

"It's a bootleg, see, so we're only chargin' ya five," the man growled. He was wearing a leather jacket similar to the one he saw Jack sporting in the colder weather. Will quirked a brow but said nothing. He shook his head and walked away as the guy grunted, "Thought so." Before he turned around to watch it. Will rolled his eyes and walked to Jack's bar.

"Even landed yourself a bootleg?" Will asked, leaning against the wall of crates. Jack grinned before he handed Will a drink. Will politely declined and Jack rolled his eyes.

"It's a virgin rum and Coke, whelp," he muttered, nodding his head across the room at another guy in a similar leather jacket. Will turned to see him pull out a jar, accepting dollar bills as bribes to play certain songs. Will looked at Jack incredulously. "Is everyone made of money or something?"

"Unfortunately at Riverside, everyone's got a little somethin'," he shook his head, pushing the drink in Will's direction. "It's just Coke, mate," he added after another glare. "I swear on pain of death—now drink up and enjoy yourself!"

"I think I'm going to leave," Will said, and Jack shook his head.

"C'mon, mate, we haven't even cut the cake!" He nodded to the large cake in the corner. Obscenely large cake, Will added in his mind, staring curiously at the thing.

"Cake?"

"It's a birthday party, in'it?" Jack asked with a shrug. Scarlet and Giselle sauntered up to the bar, cigarettes nearly falling out of their mouths as they smiled seductively at Will before turning to Jack.

"Can ya make us your famous margaritas?" Scarlet asked, and Jack grinned, moving closer to Will to start mixing the drinks.

"Look who just arrived… still want to leave?"

Will's head snapped in the direction of the door when his heart stopped at the sight. He didn't think it was possible for someone to look as sexy as she did without making it look like she put in a real effort at it. She was wearing a loose-fitting cardigan over a lacy camisole and skinny jeans. She was carrying her high-heels in her hand, and a fedora was perched on her golden curls. She smiled and waved at some friends before depositing her shoes at the door and running into the middle of the dance floor. Will smiled and shook his head at Jack, who rolled his eyes and handed the drinks to his wenches. "On the house," he added, and they smiled. They simultaneously took the cigarettes out of their mouths to blow him a kiss before they took a drag, a sip, and made their way back into the thick of things.

"Great party, Jack," Will grinned, toasting his glass to Jack who bowed immodestly.

"Least I can do… hey, whelp—can you watch the bar for a mo'? I want to pop in on Ana Maria and see how she's faring," Jack asked, watching Ana Maria from across the room. He turned to Will with a wink before taking off.

"But I don't know how to make anyt—" he dropped off, realizing it was useless. With a sigh he walked around to the back of the bar and stood there, looking between the hidden liquor, the blender, the ice bucket, and the many miscellaneous glasses. He bent down to look at the bottles, perhaps to see if there were recipes, or…

"Anyone here?"

He stood up so quickly he nearly lost his balance and fell backwards. Elizabeth Swann blushed at the sight of him but kept her composure. "Hey, Will," she said softly, watching him. He smiled, blushing as well.

"Hey, Elizabeth," he said just as softly. "Erm… I can get you what you want if you just let me know how to make it."

"How about something nonalcoholic?" She asked, smiling. He grinned.

"I think there's some good, ol' Coke back here," he nodded, bending down to look.

"Hey, babe," he heard Norrington come over. He didn't hear anything else; when Elizabeth next spoke she was breathless.

"What was that for?" She asked him. Will heard him chuckle.

"'Cause you look so damn sexy tonight!" He shouted, and Will realized he must've found the keg. He continued looking for the Coke. "Listen, babe, I'm gonna go get another one of these," there was a pause before Norrington slammed the glass down on the crates, causing them to shake. He let out a satisfied sigh before continuing, "Then we'll dance some more, all right?"

Elizabeth must've nodded, and Norrington must've walked away. Will found the Coke and moved to grab a glass. "He's right you know," Will heard another voice. He stood up at the end of the bar opposite them, pouring Elizabeth's drink. He turned to see someone he didn't recognize, but who looked to be a few years older than they were. "You look so damn sexy tonight," he purred into Elizabeth's ear, pressing against her slightly. Will moved towards them now, watching it all unfold.

"Get off of me," Elizabeth said, attempting to push him away.

"C'mon, baby, let's say you and me make good use out of the twenty in my pocket?" The man hissed, leaning into Elizabeth a bit more, putting an arm around her shoulder. Will's fists clenched. "Can you feel it… pressing into your—"

"She said back off," Will said, looking around wildly for James. He saw him, leaning against the wall near the keg, laughing at some joke some blonde girl must've told him. He glowered.

"And who the fuck are you?" The man stared at Will, a light smile coming on his face.

"Will Turner—now get off of her."

"Or what—? We were just having a good time," he drawled, leaning in and kissing Elizabeth under the ear. "Weren't we, love?" He said in her ear, causing her to squirm under him.

"Get off of me!" She cried, pushing harder still; he wouldn't budge.

"Persuade me," he purred. "Tell me what you really wan—"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence because Will had, by that time, made his way around from the piles of crates. He had moved quickly to Elizabeth's side and had grabbed the man by the shoulder. With a sickening crack, Will's fist collided with the man's jaw, and he fell to the floor in a heap. "Fuck off," he spat. "'Cause that's the only fuck you'll be getting in a while."

Time seemed to stop at that moment. Someone had turned the music off and the lights went on. Someone ran in the door and yelled, "The cops are here!" Chaos ensued as flashing red lights appeared at the windows. Will saw Jack take a bunch of money and make it for the door, and Will had all intentions on following him.

He turned to see Elizabeth, still shaking, and put an arm around her shoulders. "C'mon, we have to get out of here." He whispered. She nodded numbly, still staring at the man on the floor. Will's punch hadn't knocked him out cold, but he wasn't completely there. He led her to the kitchen and out the back door right as the cops came in the house.

"Cops… they-they're going to be everywhere," Elizabeth whispered to Will, her hand taking his tightly. She squeezed on it as if for support. "There's no way we're making it out of here… this is what they live for."

"Kind of pathetic, isn't it?" Will joked, but she didn't laugh. His smile faltered and he squeezed her hand. "What… what if we went to the police and told them what happened, you know—? …Neither of us was drinking…"

"No… no, I-I just want to go home, Will," she shook her head. "Please… just take me home."

They had made their way around the outside of the house to see the cops rounding up kids. "You're all coming in!" The chief, Will figured, shouted over the chaos. Many started yelling.

"You've got no right!"  
"Take a blood sample—not a drop of alcohol in my body!"  
"I'm twenty-one!"

Will shook his head, making his way past all the cop cars, Elizabeth still in tow. "I came late," he told her quietly, moving towards his car, at the very end of the line, "so we should be able to get out of here undetected." She nodded her response, biting the nail of her free thumb, her other hand still in Will's tight grip. He let go of her hand and unlocked the passenger side of the car. He let her inside, glancing over her shoulder at the still chaotic crowd a good fifty feet away. Jack was at the front, his hands up in surrender, pleading with the cops—"It's all for a good cause!" He shook his head and sighed, closing the door after she got in and moving to the other side of the car. He got in, turned the car on, and slowly drove off.

"Music?" He asked her quietly, moving to turn the radio on. She grabbed his hand quickly, and he snapped his head to look at her; she was crying. He turned back to the road and pulled over, turning to look at her. "Hey—hey, what's wrong?"

"Everything—anything," she mumbled, sighing. She put her head in her hands and bit her lip. "I-I've never felt so… so violated in my life…" She took a shaky breath and looked up to stare at him. "If you hadn't been there… if you hadn't stopped him—"

"Don't talk like that—James had been coming back over!"

"No he hadn't," she shook her head, scoffing under her breath. "He was far too drunk to know his right hand from his left, let alone his girlfriend from any other blonde slut."

"Hey!" Will objected, taking her chin in his hand and forcing him to look at her. "Never, ever do I want to hear you refer to yourself as a slut… or… or insinuate it like you just did," he said softly after seeing her flinch as his physical force. He offered her a small smile, "You're beautiful, and wonderful, and if you can't see that…" he dropped her head and looked down at his hands, "I really don't know how to show you." Suddenly her hand was on his face, leading his eyes upwards to meet hers. They were dry now, only looking slightly red and puffy, yet he still thought them to be beautiful. She quirked her head to the side to regard him carefully; then, she smiled.

"My friends are idiots for not seeing how incredibly amazing you are, and I'm an idiot for letting them talk me into thinking otherwise…" She said softly, her eyes lowering to look at his lips before looking back up into his eyes. A blush crept onto his cheeks, and he leaned in to finally do what he had been dying to do since he met her. His lips were a mere breath away from hers—

_Knock, knock…_

He jumped away from her as if burnt and turned to look at the intruder. He saw a police officer and bit his lip. He took a look at Elizabeth who looked equally scared. He rolled down his window and smiled brightly. "Problem officer?" He asked casually, looking at Elizabeth once more before meeting the police officer's fierce gaze.

"Having difficulties?" He asked vaguely, and Will regarded him, confused.

"Huh?"

"Having difficulties with your car—?" The police officer gestured vaguely towards the front hood. "I was trying to figure out why you would be parked off to the side late on a Friday night… Having car troubles?" He asked again. Will glanced at Elizabeth and nodded.

"Yeah… thought I was out of gas, but," he shrugged. "Must've just been the abnormally cold weather we've been having."

"I'll hear you," the police officer nodded. He looked at Elizabeth for a moment before turning back to Will. "…Were you at that party down on Wilkinson Street?" He asked bluntly. Will shook his head.

"No, no," he smiled nervously. "Just came back from the movies," he shrugged, looking at Elizabeth who nodded readily. "Pirates of the Caribbean was at the dollar theatre—couldn't pass that up, now could we?"

"Suppose not," the police officer replied, still somewhat suspicious. "Well, have a good night," he said, once more glancing at the car before returning to his motorbike. Will wound the window back up again and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good cover," Elizabeth grinned sheepishly. He smiled just as meekly before switching the car back into gear.

"Yes, well… let's not try my luck anymore tonight, shall we?"

The rest of the car ride home was filled with awkward silences and stolen glances. Finally, Will pulled up at Elizabeth's house and she turned to him with curious eyes. "There's been something that's been bothering me all night," she said quietly, shuffling around in the seat awkwardly.

"Okay—?"

"Why… why was Jack Sparrow charging money at your birthday party?" She asked, stopping her shuffling to give him her full attention. He blushed, looking away and out the windshield to the empty street.

"I didn't sell the Beetle as quickly as I needed to," he said softly, still refusing to look at her. "I have to be out by Saturday because the foster family is getting in another kid… there'll be no room left, and I don't want to be their burden anymore…" Elizabeth was about to protest, but decided against it as he continued. "The money was to help me get on my own two feet… to buy an apartment… to save for college… That sort of thing," he shrugged, still not looking at her. He glanced down to the keys in his hands. "Things just… didn't go the way we expected them to, I suppose."

"Well, I'm sure he'll still have the money, you know—"

"Which he'll probably owe back in fines and the like… providing minors with alcohol, reckless endangerment—the D.A. will kick up something, I'm sure…" he shrugged. "I just hope he doesn't do time… or, get expelled from school."

"He can always earn his G.E.D.," Elizabeth offered, but Will shook his head.

"He wants to be the first in his family to graduate High School," he said quietly, thinking back to those random decent conversations Jack and Will had had when they should have been doing Mr. Beckett's tedious English assignments. "G.E.D. isn't an option…"

"Oh," Elizabeth said simply, looking at her house for a moment before turning back to Will. "Would you like to come inside or something? Maybe we could—"

"Actually," he said apologetically, finally looking up to catch her eye, "my family… erm, Stella and Mark and _their_ family… Erm… I just have to be home in about… fifteen minutes, and—"

"Don't worry about it… I'll see you tomorrow, then—?"

"'Course… See you tomorrow."

She nodded and hopped out of the car, shutting the door and walking across the lawn to her front door, barefoot. Will's eyes widened and he groaned. She had left her shoes at the party—and he knew they had to have been expensive. Looking at the car clock and sighing, he took out his cell phone and began to dial.

"Stella—? It's Will, listen—"

* * *

_Ding-dong!_

_Di-i-i-i-ing dong!_

"I've got it, Daddy!" Elizabeth called as she walked into the hall. It was nearly midnight; who could possibly be calling at this hour? She looked out their peephole, but saw nothing. There wasn't anybody there. Confused, she looked over her shoulder to see her father still sitting at the kitchen table, clicking away at his laptop. She smiled before turning back to the door. She opened it up and was greeted with nobody.

"Hello?" She called, sticking her head out and glancing both ways.

"Who is it, darling?" Her father called. She heard him get up from his chair.

"Looks like another prank," she sighed, biting her lip. They were always the subjects of cruel pranks by the more immature students at the school. She shook her head and glanced downwards. Her jaw dropped before her face broke out in the brightest smile.

There, sitting delicately on her front porch were her silver high heels. Attatched was a crisp white note, which someone had written:

_Cinderella left her shoes at the ball. Thought she'd want them back before midnight._

She smiled, clutching the shoes like she had when she had first bought them, the note held reverently in her hand. "Don't worry about it, Daddy—I'm just going to go to bed, now…"

"Well, I hope your night gets better," he offered her, and she went upstairs knowing it already had.

* * *

_Teeny-tiny Author's Notes: Terribly sorry for the cheesiness and fluffines, and... ugh. All that other stuff that I normally don't write. It was a whim that I went on, and I left it because the earlier stuff was a bit... more mature. Everything will be solved in the next chapter, and all will be revealed about... well, I basically just said everything, so... Ugh. I need sleep. :)_

_Next Update: **Her Heart** shall be up soon, I promise! _


	6. His Penance

**Disclaimer: Everything recognizable belongs to... er, I don't know, actually, but it's def. not mine.**

**Rating:** Has been upgraded to M due to language; I say "fuck" way too many times for younger readers to be reading...

**Author's Notes: **Sorry, sorry, a million times sorry for the delay in the update. I'm sure you don't want to know all the tiny little details, but the main gist is that I had been moving, and I couldn't get to a computer, and... ugh.

So, here's the update I promised, a long time after I promised, and it's been renamed because I took out the part where the name would've made sense..._

* * *

_

My King  
_His Penance_

* * *

"Then I sidled up beside her, real smooth, you know," he wheezed, the men surrounding him closing their eyes, imagining it was them, "whispered into her ear… told her all the nasty things I'd do to her, you know," he winked and they all chuckled evilly. "She was getting weak in the knees for me, you know how _easy_ the blondes are," he shrugged his shoulders, running a hand through his long, red hair. It was frizzing out at the ends as his amber eyes glanced from one high school boy to the next. Easy as cake to fool these, just like it was only a few years ago… they'd be worshipping him by dawn. "Well, the cops came in before I could take her upstairs… I guess better luck next time…" 

"There won't _be_ a next time," a voice came from behind the crowd. They parted like the Red Sea to see a vehement Jack Sparrow glaring at the storyteller. "Because, mate, t'have a next time… ya need to have a _first_ time."

"Ahh, Jackie-boy—yer only jealous you didn't get the first taste," the man shrugged his shoulders. Jack shook his head.

"Don't call me that, Hector, we both know that you're younger than me," Jack retorted harshly, quirking a brow at the redhead. Hector grinned.

"By a month, Jack… and you know better than to call me Hector… It's Heath, now… more… Hollywood, don't you think?" Jack glowered.

"Sell-out," he spat, and Heath grinned.

"You're just jealous you didn't follow us to the top," he stood up and walked towards Jack. "Black Pearl sounds so much… better, don't you think?" He raised a brow.

"Better than what—Barbossa and his Bitches—? Ye're all playing crappy pop music with very little originality. Few years from now you'll just be another forgotten band of the new millennium…"

"Well, at least we got famous before we got forgotten," Heath grinned, shaking his head. "Jack Sparrow didn't want to change his music, despite being shoved millions of dollars to do so… So… _noble_ of you, Jack."

"Don't patronize me… I'd rather be remembered for doing something I loved instead of doing what I'm told," Jack shrugged off Heath's arm. "But… _You_…" He stabbed the younger man in the chest, glaring at him. "Hector Barbossa was willing to do _anything_ to get his hands on a little taste of it… Just a _taste_ of the millions—a _taste_ of the fame… I want the whole damn pie," Jack grunted, moving as far away from Barbossa as possible.

"Won't get it."

"You couldn't fucking keep it!" Jack shouted, chuckling slightly. "You sell two platinum records—rake in millions!" Jack threw his arms into the air, still staring at Barbossa incredulously. He glowered, then, his voice going into a whisper as he moved closer; away from the prying ears, "and then your talent… your guitarist—our _friend_… overdoses on drugs and all you fucking do is move on. Get another guitarist—get some new talent. Make another million…" Jack shook his head, spitting at the ground by Barbossa's feet. "Cotton meant nothing to you, did he? He was just a part… replaceable… just a _piece_ you needed to make your name famous… Using his death to sell more records… You disgust me."

"Yeah, but Cotton'll be known for something more than being in a garage band by a wannabe rocker, won't he—?" Barbossa argued back, glaring down at Jack.

"And you can't see why I left before I signed my name in blood to that company?!" Jack shouted, stabbing Barbossa in the chest with his finger. "All you cared about was the fame! Not the people… not the band… not even the fucking music! All you wanted was your precious name up in lights." He walked away, moving towards the cell bars. He leaned against the bars and grinned. "But… then again, it's not even your name anymore… Heath Bane… what a load of shit."

The cell went silent. The twenty-odd other occupants stared at Hector Barbossa as if seeing him for the first time. "Holy shit," a junior suddenly breathed, ripping open his jacket to reveal his Black Pearl T-shirt, "Heath Bane… I was at a party with Heath Bane!"

"From the Black Pearl?"

"That's him!"

"He knows Sparrow?"

"They played together—?!"

"He went to our high school—!"

Jack shook his head as the same group of adoring fans surrounded Barbossa. He turned around to face the precinct around him. This time tomorrow, Heath Bane would make tabloid news, and Hector Barbossa still wouldn't realize what he had done wrong in the first place.

"Jack Sparrow?" An officer approached the holding cell, looking somewhat apprehensive.

"Yeah?" Jack asked; the ruckus behind him quieted as the officer approached.

"You've made bail," he unlocked the jail cell, opening it up to let Jack out. Jack quirked a brow.

"My family's not in town," Jack said as he walked out of the cell. The officer shrugged and moved away. Jack was left standing there, unsure of whom he was meeting and why they had let him out.

"Mr. Sparrow," a familiar voice called from behind. "Come with me."

* * *

The soft buzzing was the first thing to rouse him from his reverie, staring out the window of his room, contemplating what he would do. He glanced down at the beat-up cell phone on his bed side table, an unknown number on his caller ID. He shrugged, picking it up. 

"'Ello?" He answered lazily, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand.

"Will?" Jack's voice asked almost timidly.

"Jack, I'm sorry to inform you, but I won't be able to make your bail," Will rolled his eyes, sliding off the bed. He began to pace the room. "'M afraid you wasted your one phone call."

"I'm out, you bastard," Will could almost hear Jack's eye roll. "But thanks for letting me know what kind of a friend you are."

"Anytime," Will rolled his own eyes, now, fiddling with a scrap of paper on the ground with a toe. Jack sighed into his phone, before he moved it away.

"Left here," he mumbled before returning to his conversation. "Where are you?"

"Home," Will said curiously. "Why?"

"Jus' wonderin'," Jack moved away from the phone again. "Naw, keep going straight, Bee." There was a curt request by the third party in the conversation, but Will couldn't make out who it was or what was said. "Sorry," Jack said insincerely. "Anyway, Will, yer packed t'leave, right?"

Will stared at the cardboard boxes stacked neatly beside the bare walls of his room. "Yeah," he sighed. "Why?"

"Jus' wonderin'," Jack repeated. "No—no! Wrong turn! Ugh," Jack groaned. "I'm shit for—aw, c'mon, mate, I wasn't even—fine, fine," Jack returned to the phone again. "I'm coming to pick you up."  
"Just you?" Will asked, and Jack scoffed.

"O'viously not, mate," Jack chuckled before sobering suddenly. "Anyway… get your stuff ready… say good-bye… whatever you gotta do."

"Jack—what are you—?"

"Jus' do it, mate!" Jack roared. "Sonova—Will, what's your street name again?"

"Magnolia," Will was getting more and more intrigued.

"Oh… damn, turn around, then," Jack sighed. "See you in about twenty… be ready, m' driver's a bit peeved…" And with that Jack hung up the phone, leaving Will awfully confused.

* * *

"So, Jack's coming to pick you up?" Stella said, counting out the chicken legs she was currently marinating. "What about your car?" 

"To be honest, Stella, he was a bit vague with all the details," Will shrugged. "I'm assuming I'll be staying with him until I can get up on my own feet, but that's just my assumption," he stole a carrot from the bowl and she smiled.

"Is he a nice boy, Jack?" She asked in her best motherly tone. Will shrugged, chewing thoughtfully on the carrot.

"He's older than me, by about three years…"

"But he's in your grade?" She asked skeptically. Will shrugged, taking another carrot.

"Our English teacher has a personal vendetta against him; failed him three times so Jack couldn't graduate," Will explained easily. "Anyway, he's just trying to be the first in his family to graduate high school; he's not even really aiming towards college," Will continued, "but the move'll only be temporary, anyway, until I can afford my own place."

"I see," Stella sighed. "Well, we don't really have much of a choice, given the circumstances," she placed the chicken in the oven and turned back to Will with tear-rimmed eyes. "Come back and visit, won't you?"

"Of… of course," Will smiled awkwardly, as Stella grabbed him into a hug. He patted her back awkwardly, knowing that it would be doubtful that he would return. Most of his foster parents have asked him to keep them updated with his life and whatnot, but after going through as many as he had, he realized it impossible. She pulled away, kissing his cheek despite knowing how uncomfortable he was with affection. "Where are the kids?" He asked, and she sighed.

"Well, had I known you were leaving, they would've stayed, but Mark took the them to Happy Harry's for the afternoon," she said, turning back to her cooking, embarrassed by her tears suddenly. "Can you stay for dinner, at least?"

"No, Jack said that whoever's driving him wants to get the move done quickly. I'm going to start carrying down the boxes…"

"I could help, if you'd like—"

"No, no, you're busy already. It won't take me long, anyway—it's not much," he blushed, turning around to move up the stairs. She nodded, though it went unseen by him, and turned back to her meal. Will continued up the stairs quietly, taking in the house for what would be the last time. His eyes moved to the pictures on the stairwell wall; from the bottom, it was Stella, Mark, and their biological children when they were young. The next was them with their children and their grandchildren. The next was with Isabelle, and then the adopted children trickled in from one picture to the next, until…

Finally, Will was at the top of the stairs, staring at a picture he had never noticed before. It was a picture they must've snapped on Lola's birthday party, for there she was with a crown on at the head of a long table. The other adopted children were surrounding her, and Will was at the very end, Jasmine in his lap. Below it was another picture that Molly or someone must've taken, with Will, Stella, and Mark smiling at the camera.

He bit his lip and tore himself away from the memories and the family he was leaving behind, again. Tears began to form at the corners of his eyes, but he squeezed them so tight they evaporated into nothingness. He hadn't cried in nearly twelve years; why should he start now?

So, one by one he carried down his five boxes, while Stella kept her back turned. He didn't miss her shaking shoulders, but ignored them for both of their sakes. Saying good-bye had always been the hardest part of being a foster child, and throughout his experience, he realized the less time he left for it, the better it was for everyone. When he carried down his last box, he found Stella at the bottom of the steps, waiting for him with a package in her hands.

"We knew the day would come when you would leave us," she said thickly, her voice full of emotion. "So, we gathered some pictures for you to remember us by," she handed him the envelope, which he took and placed under his arm.

"Thank you, Stella," he nodded, and she moved to let him pass. He placed the last box on top of the others and the envelope on top of that. He turned to look at her and she was leaning against the opposite wall, still consumed by her emotions.

"I don't know what I'm going to tell the children," she said softly, watching him curiously. "They're going to be so devastated… especially Jasmine."

"I'll visit," he reaffirmed more confidently. She offered a small smile in return, as though she didn't believe him any more than he did.

"Every Sunday dinner, you know, is family night," she nodded, sniffing. "Bring Jack, if you'd like or… Elizabeth, was it? The children adored her, Will, she's a nice girl," she nodded, taking a moment as if to remember her better. Will smiled painfully at the mention of Elizabeth, but said nothing more. "And Christmas—oh, Will, if you wish to come for Christmas, or Thanksgiving—our door is always open," she said, moving forward to place a hand on his shoulder. "Please—remember that."

"Of course," Will said dumbly, not knowing what else he could—or should—say. Stella smiled, patting his shoulder as if to wipe off lint. They both heard the car pull into the driveway, and heard the footsteps and voices approaching the house.

"Aw, c'mon, Bee, you shoul' jus' le' me handle 'im," Jack was saying, and the footsteps quickened as if he was rushing to beat "Bee" to the door. Bee made a remark, but it was lost when Jack rang the doorbell. Stella smiled up at Will and moved to open the door.

"Hello," she said, smiling. "You must be Jack," she said. "And, you are?" She said, opening the door wide enough to allow the two men in.

"Weatherby Swann," the second man said, as Will's jaw dropped at his appearance. "Please to meet you, ma'am."

* * *

"This is a lovely dinner, Mrs.—?" 

"Please, Mr. Swann, call me Stella," Stella replied before she turned to Lola and Margarita, "Girls, it's not polite to stare." They quickly turned away from Jack, who was sitting uncomfortably between Mr. Swann and Justin, who was smiling wildly at him.

"Well, it's hard not to, Mom," Justin said. "Are you wearing make-up?"

"Justin," Will said quickly, and the younger boy turned away. "How was Happy Harry's?"

"Awesome," he said, digging into his mashed potatoes greedily. "I won a lot of stuff playing ski-ball."

"Ski-ball?" Will asked curiously.

"You roll a ball up an alley, and try and get into these holes in the wall…" Justin explained, shoving more potatoes into his mouth, "I's awshome…"

"Justin, chew and swallow!" Stella said, and he gulped them down quickly, smiling at her apologetically. "So, Mr. Swann, are you Jack's father?" She asked politely. They both stared at her for a moment, and Will felt embarrassed for her when Mr. Swann visibly paled and Jack roared with laughter.

"Erm, no, Stella…" Mr. Swann chuckled awkwardly, elbowing Jack harshly in the ribs. "I'm Will and Jack's principal at Riverside," he smiled, taking a sip of his water as if it would ease the tension that had spread around the table.

"Oh… is Will in trouble?" Mark questioned, looking at Will curiously.

"Goodness, no," Mr. Swann shook his head, smiling. "No, Jack had simply explained Will's troubles, and I wanted to help."

"He did?" Will's jaw dropped as he turned to stare at Jack accusingly.

"I did?" Jack turned to Mr. Swann incredulously.

"You did," Mr. Swann nodded, turning back to Mark. "You see, Will has such a bright future, I didn't want him to get off track."

"So… is Will gonna live at the school?" Justin asked, causing the other children to giggle. Stella shook her head disapprovingly.

"No, no, I've set up arrangements for Will," Mr. Swann shook his head. "But, if we're going to move tonight, we must be leaving now, so…" He turned back to Will. "Are you all set, then?"

"Yes," Will nodded, still staring at Jack who was shoveling his food into his mouth, eyes on his plate. "Whenever you are."

"Good, let's get moving, then!" Mr. Swann smiled, standing up. Will followed suit, moving to show them the foyer, and his things. Mr. Swann grabbed Jack's shoulder and hoisted him up, nearly causing him to choke on the last of his dinner. Jack grinned at Stella.

"T'was wonderful, Miss," he nodded as Mr. Swann pulled him away. "Ow! Bee, you really gotta be a bit gentler, mate, I'm not exactly bulky."

"You really need to stop calling me Bee, Mr. Sparrow," Mr. Swann said as he picked up one of Will's boxes. "Because it's Weatherby, for one, and I'm your principal for two… show some respect!"

"Sorry, _sir_," Jack said sarcastically, picking up two of Will's boxes, "but to _show_ respect, one must _have_ respect." They had walked out the door, continuing to squabble as they went. Will shook his head, returning to the dining room to say good-bye.

The children were all lined up, waiting for him. Isabelle hugged him first before moving away to start clearing the table. Lola and Margarita each took a leg, wailing how they were going to miss "Silly Willy". Justin and Luke pried them off, but offered Will handshakes instead of hugs, as it was more masculine. Johnny toddled over, grabbing Will's leg and laughing as he went. When that was all done, Will looked around, but couldn't find Jasmine.

"I had to take her upstairs," Isabelle said plainly as she passed Will. "She was crying so hard…"

Will sighed, moving up the stairs. He knocked on the door of the room Jasmine and Johnny shared as the youngest. "Go'way," she said, hitting the door. "Tha's wha' yer doin' an'way," her words were slurred from the thickness of her voice, and each word was said after a large intake of breath. At the end of the sentence, she started crying all over again.

"Jazzy, let me in," Will said softly, turning the handle. It wasn't locked, but he didn't want to go in without her allowing him to do so.

"F-fine," she finally said, opening the door. He bent down and scooped her up, holding her close. "Don't go, Willy… Stay…"  
"Jazzy, I gotta go," he said softly, kissing her hair. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his hair. She muttered something, and he couldn't hear her. "What was that?" She pulled away and stared at him sadly.

"Come back, Willy," she said, pleading him with her adorable eyes. She stuck out her lower lip, and Will could feel the tears biting at the corner of his eyes. "Pweas?" She added, killing him all the more inside.

"I'll… I'll try," he closed his eyes, attempting to blockade the tears from falling.

"Whelp! Time t'go!"

Will sighed, setting Jasmine down with one last kiss to her hair. "Bye, Jazzy…"

"Willy, wait!" She said, shutting the door so he couldn't leave. "I got'cha some'fin for your birf'day." She moved towards her bed, crawling underneath it. She squirmed back out and ran towards him, something behind her back.

"Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Close your eyes an' hold out your hands," she said impatiently.

"Last time you said that, you gave me a worm," Will said skeptically.

"Whelp!" Jack called again. Will heard Mr. Swann's sharp reply.

"Maybe if you called him by his real name—William! Are you ready to leave?"

"Do it!" Jasmine yelped. Will did as she said, and she placed a wrapped gift in his hands, placed a kiss on his cheek, and ran from the room. When he heard the door shut, he opened his eyes. He looked at the gift, wrapped simply in a plastic grocery bag, and smiled softly. He reached inside and pulled out a sheet of paper, where Jasmine had drawn a picture.

It was a simple picture, simply a big red blob, and three blobs with faces and hair. He turned the paper over.

_My Favorite Memory: Willy, Bet, and Me at Pepperoni's._

_Jasmine, 2._

She must've done it during Day Care, Will reasoned, as the handwriting looked like a teacher's fine print. He smiled, wiping at his eyes again. He wouldn't let himself cry. He hadn't cried since she had died… Since…

"Whelp?" Jack's voice was at the door. "Tha' little girl came running down crying. What the hell did you do to her?"

"I'm leaving, Jack," Will said, sobering up quickly. He took a deep breath and opened the door. "That's all it took."

* * *

_To be continued...

* * *

_

_So_... what'd you think? Too corny? Too sweet? Too confusing? Let me know...

As far as Principal Swann/Jack go, everything's going to be explained in the next chapter, which WILL be titled, _Her Heart_.

Thanks for reading!


	7. Her Heart

**Disclaimer: **Same as all the other chapters-- I don't own anything of value, and I'm not getting any money by writing this story.

**Author's Note:** Sorry it took me until forever to update, I just... got extremely busy, and I'm not as interested in this story as I originally was. I'm all hyped up about the sequel I just started to outline, and I'm going to apologize now if any of these next few chapters feels rushed. I'm really only doing it subconsciously.

But, now that I brought it up, I'd like to inform my lover-ly readers that there is indeed a sequel to this story, loosely based off of the second and third movies. I'd tell you the basic gist, but... that would spoil a bit of this. I will give you the title, which is, Turtledove. Unlike this story, where the chapter titles try to match the title with my vague use of pronouns, the sequel's chapter titles (and chapters) are all based off of songs.

Because... I'm a dork.

Anyway... Enjoy this chapter, which explains EVERYTHING I left open last time! :)

* * *

_My King  
Her Heart_

* * *

It was a long and awkward car ride to wherever they were going. Will had sat in the backseat, staring out the window while his best friend and his principal bickered in the front. The radio was being turned on and off as frequently as the conversation took turns, and there was little space for Will to even inquire as to where he was going, or where he was going to live for the next few months.

Slowly, though, he recognized the landmarks and other things around him; at least, he recognized them enough to be able to slightly tell where they were going. During a random--and rare--pause in the bickering, Will interjected, "Are we going to your house, Mr. Swann?"

Jack turned to Principal Swann with a look of sheer horror, and Weatherby sighed. "How did you know?"

"I drove Elizabeth home one day..." Will said indifferently, going back to look out the window. He froze and turned back, an eyebrow raised. "Why... why are we going to your house?"

"You'll see once we get there," Weatherby said, slapping Jack's hand away from the radio once again. "Mr. Sparrow, please," he insisted. "As if driving you around isn't stressful enough, I don't need the Devil's music causing me to get even more stressed out."

"T'is not the Devil's music," Jack muttered, folding his arms across his chest with a huff. "And why don't you just drop me off at my place? I'll pay back the bail, honest..."

"Mr. Sparrow, just sit there and shut up, if you will," Weatherby snapped as he turned onto the connecting road. "We'll be there momentarily, and I can answer any and all questions then." Jack grunted his reply, shifting in his seat for the thousandth time. They drove the rest of the way in an awkward silence, with an ominous feeling looming overhead.

It was dark when Weatherby pulled into his driveway, and Will was nearly asleep in the backseat. Jack had been awfully silent and meditative, having stared out the window since the revelation of their destination. Weatherby turned off the car and turned around. "Grab your things--all of them. Have Mr. Sparrow help you. I'll be back out in a moment," he instructed, sending them both a meaningful glance. Jack rolled his eyes and scoffed, getting out of the car and moving towards the trunk. They both watched as Weatherby walked inside of his house, turning on the outdoor lights.

"What do you think this is about?"

"I dunno," Will replied, shrugging his shoulders as he grabbed two of his boxes. "But you're the one who got us into this mess, so whatever he has in store... you'll be the one getting us out of it." He slapped Jack's shoulder as he adjusted the weight of the boxes. Weatherby came back outside with a key, and motioned for the two boys to follow him. Jack picked up the rest of Will's things with a groan and an eye-roll.

"Where the fuck is he taking us?" Jack muttered to Will. "I mean, if he wants to kill us... I mean, you I could understand--fuckin' orphan an' all that," he shrugged, "but me... I got meself a family and a band... I'd be missed."

"He's not going to kill us... And thanks, Jack," Will grunted, making a mental note to punch him later, "you're a true friend"

"Anytime, whelp," he grinned. They were past the large house now, and were going further up the drive.

"Gentleman," Weatherby called behind him. "This is my garage."

"Shit... he's going to kill us, chop us up, and feed us to pigs or something," Jack stopped in his tracks, and Will kicked him in the shins.

"I doubt he has pigs in his garage," Will rolled his eyes. "Why pigs?"

"They can digest bones... they can eat a fully grown human in about three days," Jack muttered back as Weatherby unlocked his garage. Will sent him a look, and Jack shrugged. "I watch a lot of T.V."

"Obviously _too _much," Will rolled his eyes. They watched Weatherby open up the garage door and switch on a few lights. It was mostly empty, save a few boxes that had been labeled, "Elizabeth" and another couple labeled "Annie". Weatherby motioned for them to follow him.

"Leave the boxes there. I want to show you boys something," he said, moving towards a door in the back. He opened it up and turned on another light. When Jack and Will came closer, they noticed the staircase going up. Confused, they followed blindly.

"Shit. Fuck. Shit... Damn it," Jack was whispering as the stairs creaked upwards. "He's going to kill us, mate, he's going to kill us."

"He's not going to bloody kill us--will you shut up?" Will hissed. They reached the top landing, where another door was located. Weatherby was waiting there with a smile on his face.

"Mr. Turner," he greeted with a small smile. "This... is yours."

"Mine, sir?" Will questioned suspiciously. Weatherby smiled, handing him a key.

"Open it." He shrugged, moving out of the way. With a look of sheer confusion, Will placed the key into the lock and opened the door to reveal--

"An apartment?" He turned to Weatherby questioningly. Weatherby smiled.

"To share." He jerked his head in Jack's direction. Jack shook his head, a shocked look on his face. He regained composure and smacked Weatherby's shoulder.

"Thanks but no thanks... I got my own place," he grinned at Will. "But you have fun."

"No, Mr. Sparrow... from what I gathered from the police station, you have no home to go to. So, here you are," Weatherby smiled warmly at the two of them. He gestured for them to go back down the stairs. "Let's discuss it back at the house over a cup of coffee or something... I believe Elizabeth had baked cookies earlier..." He muttered, thinking about it. He shooed them down the stairs distractedly. "Yes... I think that's what she told me over the phone..." He shook his head, leading the boys up to the house. Jack hit Will in the chest, holding him from continuing on. Will punched Jack on the shoulder with a grunt.

"Christ, Jack... was that necessary?"

"I'm not livin' in no fuckin' apartment next to my fuckin' principal," Jack muttered back, beginning to pace anxiously. "We have to find a way out of this."

"Why? It's a place to sleep and eat... we're both eighteen... or older, in your case," Will muttered back, resuming his walk towards the house. "He can't tell us what to do!"

* * *

"These are the rules, gentleman," Weatherby said ominously as they sat around the kitchen table.

"Rules?" Jack was flabbergasted. "'m not stayin' in tha' apartment!"

"Yes, you are," Weatherby was tired and frustrated at this point, and was certainly not in the mood for Jack's antics. "As I understand it, you are this close," he motioned with his pointer finger and thumb, "to being expelled. According to the law, this is your last chance at graduating," Weatherby smiled softly at Jack, "and I want to insure that you do."

"Why d'you care?" Jack groaned, leaning back in his seat. "My family doesn't even fuckin' care--I don't even fuckin' care!"

"I'm sure that's not true," Weatherby said sympathetically, "and you are my student--of course I care," he shook his head, leaning forward to grab a cookie off of the plate. "Besides, graduating from highschool means that you will have a better opportunity to land a better job--something you wouldn't be able to do if you didn't graduate!"

"'m a musician, Bee," Jack shook his head. "Most musicians barely pass grade-school, let alone graduate from high-school!" Jack scratched his head, letting the argument drop; he knew he wasn't going to win.

"As for you, Mr. Turner," Weatherby turned to Will, "It's in your records that you were to be a foster child until eighteen, which you turned... two days ago?" Will nodded glumly, and Weatherby offered him a small smile, "and am I correct in assuming you have no where else to go?" Ashamed, Will nodded his head and hid his face, staring down at his shoes instead. Weatherby sighed, "Then you are welcome to share the apartment with Mr. Sparrow here. But if you both are to be staying on my property, you must live by my rules..." When no one objected, he continued. "First, your curfew is midnight."

"Midnight?" Jack's jaw fell to the floor. "I'm twenty-one years old, 'm not--"

"Your curfew is the same as my daughter's curfew, and it is not an unreasonable one at that," Weatherby snapped, interrupting Jack's tangeant from continuing. With a nod, he continued, "There is a phone in your apartment. I will call it at the stroke of midnight... if I go to voicemail, I will come to the apartment, if either one of you aren't there, you will lose any and all priveleges."

"Priveleges?" Will asked, confused.

"You will be grounded."

"Grounded?" Will continued, still not comprehending.

"I will take away your car keys, your phone, and you won't be able to go out at all for... a week, we shall say," Weatherby said.

Will nodded, but Jack just sat there, staring at Weatherby for the longest time muttering over and over, "I can't fucking believe this..." There was a moment, and Jack took it to interject with, "Do my parents know about this?"

"You mean your mother? Of course she does," Weatherby nodded, reaching into his pocket. "She's off to Vegas with Edward... she said," he shrugged his shoulders, "Edward Teague, or something," he pulled out a letter and handed it to Jack. "She was delighted with the idea for someone to keep track of you while she's away... it's all in there," Weatherby took a cookie off of the plate and took a bite, pondering to himself as Jack disbelievingly read the letter. "Where was I?"

"Curfew... shortly thereafter," Will said quietly, watching Jack curiously.

"Right, right," Weatherby nodded. "The same grounding rules will apply for any grade below a 'B' on your report cards," he waved a hand at Jack's attempt to interrupt. "You heard me," he solidified the warning.

"Jus' makin' sure," Jack grunted, folding his arms over his chest.

"You are to keep the apartment tidy, though I will allow you to decorate it however you like," Weatherby shrugged. "In addition, you will each take turns mowing the front lawn..." Neither one interjected, and Weatherby seemed pleased, "About one every two weeks or so," he shrugged. He finished off the cookie and rubbed his hands together to rid himself of the crumbs. "Also, we have dinner together, every night, at seven... you are not to miss it. All homework shall be done before seven," he added, leaning back in his chair to regard the two boys, "and after dinner, I shall check to make sure it's done."

"Do you want our fingerprints as well? Perhaps a mugshot?" Jack questioned Weatherby sarcastically. "After all, it seems like a fuckin' prison!"

"Swearing... is prohibited, Mr. Sparrow," Weatherby said with a wry smile. "In fact... we have what we call a swear jar. Every time a foul word comes out of your mouth, you've got to put a quarter in the jar..." His smile grew, "For every F-bomb, it's a dollar."

"A dollar?" Jack quirked a brow at the older man. "Fuck that shit," he chuckled, leaning back in his seat. Weatherby smirked.

"Don't tempt me, Sparrow. I'll let that one go. Next time, you pay up or you'll regret it," Mr. Swann smiled at the two boys. "I believe that's everything..." He nodded, "But it's really too dark for you to set up now... We have a spare bedroom upstairs, and there's a pull-out couch in the living room."

"I'll take the bedroom," Jack said instantly, grinning at Will. "Snooze ya lose..." He called as he jogged up the stairs. Weatherby sighed, standing up from the table and offering Will an apologetic stare.

Will shook his head, "The pull-out couch will be fine." He stood up and reached his hand across the table, "Thank you, sir, for your generosity." Weatherby grasped Will's hand heartily, giving it a good shake.

"It's the least I can do..." Weatherby nodded. "After all, when Elizabeth told me--"

"Elizabeth?" Will questioned curiously, his head tilting to the side curiously.

"Yes, of course--this was all her idea after all!" Weatherby smiled. "She told me that you were in a bit of trouble, and so was your friend... when she explained everything to me, I told her that there was really nothing that could be done," he rolled his eyes and said under his breath, "my memory's a bit fuzzy, and I forgot about the apartment above the garage..." With a chuckle he continued,

"This was really all her idea."

"Well... I'll have to thank her, then," Will nodded, still staring at his principal curiously.

"She should be home soon..." Weatherby said off-handedly, glancing at the clock. "Well... I'm heading up. If you have any problems, I'm sure Elizabeth would be happy to help..." With an awkward pat on Will's shoulder, Weatherby walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs, leaving a very shocked Will Turner in his wake.

Watching Weatherby walk up the stairs, Will sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was a very awkward situation; he was all alone in his principal's house, and he was terribly thirsty. Was he allowed to have a glass of milk? Where did they keep the glasses? "Where do they keep the bloody milk?" Will grunted, searching through the cabinets for a glass.

"In the fridge, like most normal people do."

Will jumped up at the sound of her voice, turning around with a red face. He looked like a child who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar a few minutes before supper, and she couldn't help but giggle. "They're in the second cabinet on the right... above the sink," she whispered, smiling at him. "Grab two."

He grabbed two glasses out of the cabinet and placed them on the island in the middle of the kitchen. She was holding a plate full of food in one hand, and the gallon of milk in the other. She kicked the door shut with her foot, placing the milk on the table. She walked towards the cabinets again, pulled out a drawer, and grabbed a fork. She turned back to see him staring at her. "Did you want something?"

He shook his head, turning to pour the milk. He handed her a glass and took up his own. She started to eat her dinner, every so often looking up at him. After a while, she grew tired of his silence. "...are you ever going to talk to me?"

He shrugged with a tiny little smirk on his face. "Are you going to tell me why you told your father my life story?"

She sighed, pulling a stool around and sitting on it. She continued chewing, thinking about how to phrase it. "I'm not playing that game," she said simply, taking another bite out of her dinner. When he continued to stare at her, she swallowed quickly and added, "The question game... where all we ever do is ask each other questions and no one ever gets any answers..." He shrugged, grabbing a stool as well. He sat opposite of her on the island, and she continued eating. "If I didn't tell my father, what would you be doing right now?"

"I thought you weren't playing that game," Will said smartly, taking a long drink from his milk. "I'd probably be crashing at Ana Maria's... she offered..."

"For how long?"

"Until I got my own place..." Will said defensively. "Just like it's going to be--"

"Will," she interrupted, turning her bright brown eyes up to him. "I felt horrible after treating you so poorly. I felt like I took advantage of you in some way after Jack's party, and after you poured your heart out... I knew that if I didn't do something to help you... I'd regret it." She quirked her head to the side, "and I don't want to have regrets."

"But what about Jack?" He said quickly, trying to avoid awkward subjects.

"What about him?" She said, just as defensively. She turned back to her dinner.

"You hate him."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," she snorted. "Are you going to tell me we're sitting in a kitchen, drinking milk?" Her sarcasm was almost biting, but her smile made up for it. "I do, yes."

"Then why invite him to live with you?" Will asked her what he deemed to be the obvious question in the air. Elizabeth sighed.

"Because I hate him," she said easily. At his incredulous look, she sighed. "Look-- if he failed high school, he'd be stuck here, in Riverside, forever. If he passes, he has a chance of going somewhere... somewhere far, far, _far _away from me." She giggled, standing up to place her plate in the sink."Do you get it?"

He stared at her for the longest time before answering, simply, "No. Not at all."

"Fine," she said smartly, crossing back to the island and plopping down on her stool. "Then I did it so you wouldn't be lonely. Make better sense now?"

"A little, thanks," he sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. "Well... as much as I appreciate you helping me out... how is this going to go with your 'we can't be friends during school' scenario?" He asked her sarcastically. "I think the news might get out. Especially since Jack is here."

"I thought we changed that when you helped me sneak out of that party yesterday," Elizabeth said softly, looking down at her hands. "I mean... I didn't expect you to want to be the best of friends right away, but I definitely thought you'd forgive me."

"I suppose... that might have changed some things," Will admitted with a long sigh. "Between us, most definitely," he paused, searching for the right way to say it, before deciding to just continue, "but it was a private matter. I didn't know if you'd want to keep it private, or..."

"I'm not going to hold hands and skip across campus with you, no," she shook her head with a laugh. "But if anyone were to ask me, I'd let them know I think of you as one of my closest friends."

"Really?"

"Really."

The silence that fell afterwards was deafening. He was watching her, and she was watching him. Finally, he smiled and yawned. "It's getting late," he said quietly. "And I have to work tomorrow..." He trailed off as he thought about things. "Shit. My car'll be at... the Smith's..."

"Who're they?"

"My foster parents... Stella and Mark," Will said awkwardly, finishing off his milk to avoid saying anything else.

"I'll drive you," she offered quickly, also attempting to avoid the topic. "I can drive you there, and you can pick up your car... or I could just drive you to work..."

"You don't have to..."

"I should, though, good karma," she smiled with a wink. "Besides... how many times have you driven me away from trouble, now, Mr. Turner?" She joked, her giggle echoing around the kitchen. "What time are you working?"

"Seven," he said.

"At night?"

"In the morning..."

"Buzz kill," she glowered playfully. "Well, seeing as how it's... close to two," she glanced at the microwave clock. "What's say we just watch movies until six-thirty?" At his incredulous stare, she shrugged, "Four and a half hours of sleep is not going to do much for you... you might as well stay up."

"All right, what movie did you have in mind?" Will asked, placing his glass in the sink and following her into a different room. There was a large couch and an even larger television. She smiled.

"Take your pick, Mr. Turner," she joked again, gesturing to the shelves. "We have just about everything."

He walked up to the massive shelves and looked at everything from A Streetcar Named Desire to Mean Girls, and loads more in between. "I think I'm up for a comedy."

"A chick flick comedy, or a comedy-comedy?"

"Dunno... what would you suggest?" He turned to look at her to see that she was directly behind him, staring at the shelves. He blushed a horrible red at her closeness, turning back to the shelves with a forced cough.

"Bend it Like Beckham is hilarious."

"And Keira Knightley's gorgeous, so I have no objections," he reasoned. She laughed, pulling it out of the collection and placing it into the player.

"You know," she said as she settled into the couch, placing a blanket on top of her bare legs, "people say I look a lot like her."

Will looked her up and down as the opening credits began to roll before he smiled.

"I don't see it."

* * *

"Well, that's a sight I thought I'd never see."

It was right in his ear, startling him. He jumped up, only to find another person's weight on top of him. He closed his eyes tighter before opening them wide to see Elizabeth snuggled firmly into his chest. His head snapped to see Jack staring at him from the armchair next to their couch grinning. "I just thought I'd do the waking before Bee wakes up."

"Mornin', James," Elizabeth yawned from her position on top of Will. She blinked before staring up at him. He offered her a small smile, and she jumped back and blushed in response. "Sorry... Will..."

"Aw, don' be sorry!" Jack grinned, rubbing his hands together animatedly. "You two looked so... _cute_. Two peas in a pod, I'd say..."

"Shut it, Sparrow," Elizabeth snapped. "What time is it?"

"Eight-thirty," Jack glanced at the DVD player clock. "Why?"

"Shit!" Will jumped up, running a hand through his hair. He pulled out his phone and checked the time, "SHIT!" He said, louder. He flipped open the little phone and pressed a button, walking out of the room in a daze.

"What's up his--"

"He's about an hour late for work... and we haven't even brushed our teeth," Elizabeth huffed, pushing herself off the couch. She ran a hand through her tousseled locks, sighed, and turned the television off. "If Will comes back, tell him I'm just getting my father's keys..."

"Will do," Jack said offhandedly, staring at his nails disinterestedly. He looked up and she was gone, and he grinned. "'Bout time..."

"...very sick, Mr. Brown... you understand..." Will's voice came from the kitchen. "It'll never happen again..." He cut off as he walked back into the room, an apple in his hand. "Sure... I'll... yes," he seemed to be attempting to get a word in, because all Jack could hear was yelling coming from Will's phone. "Day off... yessir. Terribly so--" He looked at his phone's screen. "He hung up," he said softly, landing on the couch with a groan. "Damn it."

"Sorry, mate. I had no idea you had to be up that early," Jack shrugged, rubbing his hands together. "Think of it this way... now we've got all fucking day to move into our apartment!" The sarcasm in Jack's voice made Will smile, and the thoughts of Mr. Brown and his lecture was far from his mind.

"We should paint it," Will suggested, and Jack grinned.

"Not pink, I hope." Will smacked Jack's arm.

"Nah... not pink," he grinned as well, leaning back and relishing the comfort the couch brought. Just as he was about to drift back to sleep, a frantic Elizabeth had walked back into the room.

"Get up! We've got to--"

"Relax!" Jack said quickly, cutting her off. Will groaned and opened his eyes. He turned to her and smiled.

"Mr. Brown's letting it go... I have the day off today," he shrugged. "We're never really busy on a Sunday anyway."

"Oh," Elizabeth said softly, plopping down on the couch beside him. The awkward trio sat in silence for a bit before she said, calmly, "Do you still want to run and get your car?"

"Um," Will looked at his hands, tossing the idea around in his head. "Sure."

"Let's go, then," Elizabeth said easily, getting up. "We'll hit someplace for breakfast, too. Might as well," she shrugged, turning to Jack. "Want to come?"

Jack opened his mouth to retort a quick, 'no', before he closed it again. If he didn't go with them, he'd have to stay there. Which would mean that he would have to spend more time with Weatherby, which was not an option. With a groan, he nodded his head.

"Might as well."

* * *

_To be continued..._

* * *

**Finishing Notes: **I learned that pig fact from watching... CSI, maybe? I watch a lot of television myself, so...

Timeline of Events In case anyone is still confused:

Jack is arrested the night before close to midnight.  
Will takes Elizabeth home still close to midnight.  
Elizabeth is telling her father _everything_ at the kitchen table when the doorbell rings. About half past one in the morning.  
Elizabeth finds her shoes.

Next Day Jack and Barbossa get into an argument in their cell.  
Mr. Swann has a conversation with the DA about dropping Jack's charges on the condition that Jack would stay with Mr. Swann until he graduated high school. about noon  
Mr. Swann posts Jack's bail. around two in the afternoon  
Mr. Swann takes Jack from the county jail, and has him call Will. around three  
They arrive at Will's house, and stay for dinner. around five  
They are taken back to Weatherby's house. around ten.  
And the rest is history. xDD

**Coming up next time:** Will, Elizabeth, and Jack sit down to breakfast, and chaos insues... Jack's given the biggest opportune moment of his life, and Will makes a large decision that could cost him a relationship with Elizabeth.

**Thanks for reading!**


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